


I Am The Storm

by 530_and_some_fandoms



Series: those blind hours [1]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Assassin - Freeform, Captive, Gen, Hydra (Marvel), Hydra Original Character, IronDad and SpiderSon, Irondad, MC redemption, Medical Inaccuracies, Minor Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, No Beta, Post-Spider-Man: Homecoming, References to Depression, Stark Tower, Suicide Attempt, Tags will be added, mild irondad and spiderson fluff, spiderson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:27:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 26
Words: 64,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25298374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/530_and_some_fandoms/pseuds/530_and_some_fandoms
Summary: I had never known anything outside of Hydra. It was my home. But when I got caught on a mission, my beliefs about Hydra were challenged, leaving me to wonder if I was working towards the greater good or the end of the world.Updated every Saturday!
Series: those blind hours [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1835776
Kudos: 13





	1. Part One: The Catastrophe

**Author's Note:**

> This story is pre-written, so the updates will be scheduled! Each chapter (excluding these first two) will be published every Saturday by 11pm EST.

Your future will be glorious

As long as you follow a few rules

They aren't very hard

And aren't at all cruel

Your mouth should be closed

And eyes dead ahead

No one wants your words

Or hear what is happening in your head

You do as your told

Always and forever

Reach our goals

No matter time or weather

Your fingers should be nimble

Smart to the greatest degree

But only for purposes

That benefit me

And that is all

Don't balk when we destroy you

You won't feel a thing

We always have goals to pursue

No you can't escape

You are needed for greatness

Besides, you don't want to be

hated by us

For it is guaranteed escaping will be that last thing you ever do. 

**I Am The Storm**

**Part One**

**The Catastrophe**

**7/15/20**

**Updated Saturdays**


	2. Chapter One

I woke to the dripping of water inside my room. My eyes tracked the water as it slowly swelled into tiny droplets and finally fell from the ceiling into a small puddle on the floor. I didn't feel like getting up yet, so I rolled over on my other side, trying to ignore the repetitive plop of water on the concrete. With my sensitive hearing however, each plop quickly became agonizing. 

All the more reason why the loud bang on my door was welcome.

" _ Get up _ !" the guard called in Russian. The small flap at the bottom of my door opened to reveal oatmeal. 

I still wasn't in the mood to get up, but the food would be taken away soon if I didn't, and not to mention the punishment that would follow my misbehavior. So I got up.

The oatmeal was predictable as always, cold and plain, but welcome. I ate it quickly before pushing the bowl back under the flap. 

After I finished my breakfast, I took a cold shower and dried off quickly, making sure the metal plate extending from the nape of my neck was dry so it would not rust or spark. I was thankful I didn’t have any hair to worry about, all of it having been shaved the other day. It had been getting too long, coming up in small, dark, curly wisps around my head. 

I assumed that today I would be having training, so I put on a light, black shirt and black pants, along with my worn-out running shoes.

I sat in my bed again. The water continued to drip.

_ Be quiet _ , I thought, annoyed. I attempted to use my powers, trying to use the air around me to block the water from it’s free fall. As always, my powers didn't work inside my room. I sighed, unsure why I tried in the first place. It was stupid really, holding out hope that one day it would work. 

A sharp knock came at the door. I jumped up, back straightening, feet unconsciously springing apart. This was my standard stance, drilled into me from a young age. 

Agent Durus walked into my room, copying my stance in a slightly more relaxed way. He was one of the more present agents in my section of Hydra. He was harsh, but had my best interests in mind. 

"You will report to Doctor Galley's office immediately. You have a mission prepared," I raised a single eyebrow at the Agent as he left, but I should have expected it. I usually had missions once or twice a week since the Traitor had left years ago; I hadn't had a mission since last Tuesday.

I walked to the bathroom and made sure my appearance was acceptable before leaving my room, staring into my light eyes that stood out from the natural tan of my skin. Nodding in approval, I opened my door and started to make my way down the concrete halls. I strolled casually, not really caring who saw me, most of the Hydra agents were terrified of me anyway. Lest they got thrown in the training room with me.

I arrived at Doctor Galley's five minutes after I left my room. I rapped at the door with the back of my knuckles and a hearty "Come in!" came from inside the office.

Doctor Galley was an older woman; with small wrinkles on her forehead and a bit of silver in her mouse brown hair, she looked easily fifty, yet she was still beautiful. She had small smile lines, which I always wondered how she got. I had never seen her smile, unless I completed my mission perfectly, which, though often, was not often enough to evoke smile lines. 

"Storm," the Doctor softly, "I have a mission for you," I nodded in understanding, silent. I did not not meet her eyes as was standard, but instead stared at her sharp chin.

The Doctor slid a small folder across her desk and opened it. I glanced across the front page before picking up and flipping through it. The front page depicted a young woman, apparently named Zoe Howes. I flipped through the last few pages. All of them were photocopies of handwritten notes and equations for different serums and experiments, several of which I understood. And, several of which I understood were used on me.

"Ms. Howes has been especially difficult for us, providing her research to Stark. You have 48 hours to do away with her," I nodded and glanced over the file once more. Zoe Howes worked as an employee of Stark Industries at Stark Tower on the 53rd floor in the BioMed labs, which made sense; she was a biologist after all. 

I bowed my head and excused myself from Doctor Galley's office, heading back to my room to prepare. This mission should not take long, and the 48 hours given to me were more than I would ever need for a mission like this.

I walked swiftly and no one bothered me, which was a blessing. I got to my room and immediately went for my backpack under my cot, already stuffed with civilian clothes. I checked it once more, before carelessly throwing it on top of my cot.

I dashed to my small nightstand and threw open the top drawer. Inside was my mission suit; a full black, form-fitting suit with plenty of extra pockets and a belt to keep my guns and knives relatively hidden. 

I stripped, except for a black tank top and fitted shorts, and slid into my suit. Pulling the straps tight over my body, I simultaneously reached for my mask and goggles. 

I hated the mask, it cut into my face and left me with red marks and curved bruises along my cheekbones, but it was necessary. The goggles were a little more bearable, and made the bright world a little bit easier to see. But both accessories were well hated in their own right. 

I took my last definite breath of cool air and slipped the mask on, pulling and buckling the straps as tight as my face would allow, just as they taught me. I strapped the black backpack against my back and sat waiting.

Two hours later, another sharp knock came. I quickly stood up, back straightening almost painfully after sitting still for hours. Agent Durus stood in the doorway. 

"Get up," He clipped, "Get your weapons and you will be on your way,"

I nodded obediently and followed Agent Durus to the Weapons Room.

The Weapons Room was blank except for a large table which displayed guns, ammunition, knives, daggers, and swords, most of which were either made or designed by me. I gathered whatever I thought I needed; several small pistols, a large gun for long distances, and their corresponding ammunition, three small knives, and a longsword, mostly for a sinister look. 

The weapons were all designed with the intention of shrinking down to fit in a small box so I could hold all the weapons I wanted and not be weighed down or run out of space. It was a lovely innovation, integrated only a few months ago after I came up with the concept. Nanotech particles, though difficult to harness, were extremely useful when used correctly. 

I stuffed all my weapons into the different pockets and spaces of my suit then glanced up at Agent Durus, telling him silently that I was ready to go. He nodded and strolled out the door with me following. We walked through the Hydra Compound, climbing a set of stairs and walking up to the garage where a large black van waited for me. The inside held benches where Agent Durus, several more agents, and I sat. 

The ride was long, bumpy, and mind numbing for quite a time. Then different sounds started weaving their way in and out of my hearing, until finally, the noise outside the van became a constant hum in my ears. We had to stop and start again several times. Traffic, I assumed. 

The traffic finally slowed down and the truck stopped with a sudden halt. The doors of the truck were slowly edged open, and I got out. I knew my mission; the other agents were there for backup in case I had to be extracted. 

Seeing that there was a large building in front of me, I decided to scale it. I could have used my powers but they would have drained me considerably and I didn’t necessarily want to be spotted. From what I knew, New York City, the location of Stark Tower, had many vigilantes roaming around, so a person scaling a building wouldn’t be much of a surprise to any citizens. Still, I did so as quietly as I possibly could. No point risking my cover. 

When I got to the roof after a particularly long climb I looked about my surroundings. We seemed to be in Downtown Manhattan. There were several skyscrapers dotted among slightly smaller buildings, but one stood out the most. A giant, modern building with a very bold “A” at the very top. Stark Tower, formerly known as the Avenger’s Tower. My lips pulled into a small grin. 

The roof I was on lined up exactly with the 37th floor, so I had a bit of scaling to do by the time I got to the Tower. But whoever said I had to climb it? 

Oh this would be fun.

~~~

Work resumed. 

Zoe Howes had just completed her daily paperwork, and was anticipating her time in the lab. She had an idea for a certain medicine that could possibly prevent the growth of cancer, lung cancer in particular. She was distracted by the printing of paper and the formulas in her head that she didn’t notice when there was a loud thump from the window. Zoe looked to her right at the large floor to ceiling window that displayed the skyline of New York City. Seeing nothing, she assumed it was a bird. Almost nothing could break through these windows anyway. She was safe.

Or, at least, she thought she was. She continued to watch the window while her paperwork finished printing. Spiderweb cracks appeared in the middle, spreading over the whole window. It only took a second to know she was screwed. 

She ran for her life with a mantra repeating in her head.

_ They found me, they found me, I’m dead, I’m dead. _

—————

This job was so achingly simple. In fact, I had already spotted my target before I had even got into the building. There were many people conversing and working on this floor, and Ms. Howes was standing by the copy machine. 

I plunged my sword into the window. I would have thought that the windows would be stronger, but it cracked against one strike from my sword. Oh well.

Zoe Howes looked up at the windows and their spiderweb cracks in fear. She couldn’t see the threat, of course, I was invisible right now after all, but she started running in the opposite direction. I scowled. She _ had _ to mess me up. Now I had to run into the Tower.

I plunged my sword again, creating more cracks in the window. I could hear an alarm, and Ms. Howes kept running. I was tired of this. I twisted my right hand, sacrificing my invisibility, but creating quite an entrance. The window shattered

and I was swept into the room. 

I saw Mrs. Howes run into a closet, which was really stupid on her part. I stalked over to the closet, ready to push open the door and kill her when I heard the click of a loaded gun from inside the closet. So she was going to shoot. Of course she knew how to shoot a gun, but that didn’t mean that I couldn’t help her.

I twisted my hand, manipulating her arm to hold the gun to her own head and her finger to pull the trigger. From the closet, I heard a gasp and a few pleads, but the sharp bang of the gun and the dull slump of a body interrupted her. The target was successfully taken out. Time to return.

There were a few problems with that though. I was now visible. And there were several very strong looking security guards circling in. 

Well, I have had worse. The Winter Soldier himself did train me after all.

The first made a sorry attempt to tase me, which was just awful. The amount of times Hydra had connected me to awful machines to electrocute me and then insert me with different experimental liquids had built up my resistance to electricity. This taser barely caused me to flinch. 

I peeled the taser off my suit and floated it back to the man, electrocuting him in the face. He fell back, falling to the floor with a heavy thump. The rest of the men lowered their guns. I smiled, although they wouldn’t be able to see it.

But then one brave little soldier stepped forward again, not a taser in his hand, but a real gun. He took a shot at my leg, but I rebounded it without a second thought. The bullet he shot tore through his abdomen causing him to collapse, dead or dying. 

At this point, I was getting bored. I floated above their heads, and they looked at me in awe, as they should. Then I shot out the window.

Only I didn’t make it that far.

Whoever designed this tower was obviously very intuitive, because installing a very hard force to invisibly “close” a broken window was a very good idea. And I ran head first into it.

The pain was sharp and vision swam in and out. I had fallen to the ground, my wrist buckling under me. I hadn’t noticed the pain of that until my head cleared slightly. I would have to get that fixed quickly, otherwise it would heal wrong. 

The guards circled in on me as I stumbled to my feet. I must have a concussion. I ran into the window for Hydra’s sake. And now I was sorely outnumbered.

One man tried to tase me again, and I threw it back at him, my powers being void because I hit my damn head. He was stupid anyway.

Three down and however many were left in my swimming double vision left to go. Aiming a gun would be hard with how off my vision was.

It might have only been because of my probable concussion, but I heard some sort of buzzing. Like something was warming up? I disregarded it, but the guards didn’t. They stepped back immediately and turned their heads. 

I turned but didn’t even register what was to my right before a solid force hit my chest, and I blacked out.


	3. Chapter Two

I woke up to the softest thing I had ever touched. I liked it. I wasn’t supposed to like it. 

I peeled my eyes open. The second thing I noticed was that my mask and goggles were gone. That wasn’t good either. That mask only let certain people touch it, anyone else would be shocked. I was one of them (obviously) and so were all of the higher up’s at Hydra. How had it gotten off? Using my own hands to get it off was the most probable solution. My suit was also missing, so all my weapons must have been confiscated as well.

The third thing I noticed was the room was completely white. It was sterile and smelled so strongly it burnt my nose. I must have been in the medical wing. I had a nasty concussion, most likely, but it was strange that they would provide me with care. My wrist was wrapped and sore. My head and chest ached, beating in time to my heart. 

The fourth thing I noticed was that I was tied down and the door looked bolted shut. The door, though strong looking and bulky, seemed like it was installed hastily. Some of the bolts looked half installed and the metal was scratched and crooked. They obviously hadn’t been prepared for me.

The fifth thing I noticed was that I was alone. There was a camera in the corner of the room, watching me. I scowled at it. 

I flexed my fingers, and it caused a small shoot of pain to go up my arm, but other than that, nothing was out of place.

I also didn’t feel any headpiece or patch that blocked my powers, so I could use them freely. But it might be best to not let them know that right now. They had probably bet on the fact that if I couldn’t use my hands, I couldn’t use my powers. 

The truth was, I could use my powers without employing my hands, it was just harder to focus the energy. I don’t think even Hydra knew that; I had only used that ability on missions when they couldn’t be watching me and only did slight things with it. I didn’t like using them that way at all. It was harder and unnecessary.

That being said though, it was pretty necessary right now. 

I focused all of my energy into breaking my right cuff quietly. I showed the camera a picture similar to the one I had been living: a picture where I went back to sleep. I hoped that when the cuff broke that there would be no shrapnel. It would be a little weird to explain why I was bleeding to a person watching a camera that hadn’t caught the footage.

The cuff cracked quietly as I separated the metal through the microscopic pockets of air running through it. It quickly crumbled and broke apart, but I caught the pieces and set them quietly in the trash can where no one who wasn’t looking could see them. I started in the left cuff, all the while making sure that my guise on the camera was still showing what I wanted them to see. 

I tried not to lose my focus on the tasks and just let my mind drift into a state of... fogginess would be the best word to describe it, but it was hard and I had to fight to keep myself conscious to perform the skillful tasks that divided my mind. I didn’t need one task to become sloppy.

The second cuff broke apart and I started on the shackles circling my ankles. These ones weren’t as hard as the ones on my hands, and it took almost half the time to get my legs free. 

As far as the person watching the camera knew, I had just woken up again. He didn’t see all that had taken place in the past minute, which was very good for me. I still laid in the bed, now just having to hide the fact that I didn’t have cuffs from the camera. 

I was “awake” for nearly half an hour when the door opened again. It was a struggle to keep my mind from drifting, especially now that I had to hide my cuffs both from the man that just walked in and the camera. Fog drifted in the back of my vision.

The man looked to be in his mid thirties. He had blonde hair and intelligent light eyes. He was dressed in a black suit that didn’t quite fit, probably a uniform, but I couldn’t tell if it was one he had gotten himself or one that was widely given throughout wherever I was. I could see the faint outline of a small, standard issue gun along his waistline.

The man walked confidently, his chest forward slightly and his chin held high with a touch of arrogance. He had a wedding ring in his left hand and at the top of his breast pocket, I could see a small corner of what looked like a picture or a piece of paper. He didn’t look to be of high danger unless he was able to get out his gun, but it would be easy keeping it out of his hands. He was most likely my interrogator, which was fine with me. They wouldn’t get any information out of me anyway.

The man pulled a chair up to the foot of the bed, thinking that was safe enough.

“So, Hydra?” He started, his voice was deep and memorable, different than anything I had ever heard and I have heard a lot of voices. I would have to remember to recreate that.

“You see, I thought they were dead, all of them. They disappeared about six months ago and no one has seen or heard from them since. Until you showed up. We found Zoe Howes in the broom closet with her brains blown out in an apparent suicide. She was dead about the same time you arrived. Some say that they saw her running from you. Care to explain that?”

I stayed silent.

“And the surviving guards say that you could fly, not to mention that you completely destroyed the window, which will cost quite a lot by the way,” the man leaned back in his chair casually, “So, did you kill Zoe Howes? It looked like a suicide, yes, but she was dead and you seemed to be heading out pretty quickly.”

This guy was getting annoying after listening to him for barely half a minute. Would it hurt to kill him? Well, it would obviously hurt him, but I would try to make it as painless as possible for him. 

Nah, best to wait.

The man got up from his chair and walked up, pulling something small and blue from his mouth. He moved toward the trash can with the small wad in his hand. 

Not good, not good, not good. My cuffs were hidden there.

I let the illusion around my cuffs fall away and moved toward him, making no sound with little effort.

The man looked down at the trash can.

“What the-“ he didn’t finish his sentence. His neck snapped cleanly and he fell like a limp doll.

Stuffing his body in the closet was the easy part. “Stealing his body” and keeping the illusion that the man was interrogating me and I was still in the bed was the hard part. Then again, it wasn’t really stealing his body. It was more like manipulating the wavelengths around me to make others see him and not me

The fog that had left my vision momentarily had now turned the sides of my vision a milky white that threatened to consume my eyesight. I put it out of my mind though. Taking the card from the man (who was named Gregory Haskell, according to his name tag. Level 3), I swiped it in the door and let myself out of my “cell”.

The rest of the place was very much similar to the room I had been held in, although my room seemed to have slightly more security than all of the other rooms that I could see. The door to my room was large and bulky and required a card to get through, not unlike most of the doors at Hydra. It looked hastily put together, seeing as the rest of the doors were slim and much more like Doctor Galley’s door.

I walked away from the room, looking down at the clipboard I had also collected from Mr. Haskell’s body. I ruffled through the papers, trying to look natural as I walked down the hall full of other people dressed in white. People passed and didn’t take any notice of me. If I was lucky, I wouldn’t have to speak and recreate the odd voice of Mr. Haskell. 

“Haskell! Where do you think you’re going?” A voice shouted from the other end of the ward. I winced and turned around.

On the other end of the hall was a tall, rather large, man. He had brown hair and a receding hairline and held himself with an air of authority, but by his dress I could tell that he wasn’t much. Black slacks and a white button down shirt. Even Mr. Haskell was better dressed. 

“So. What was that about?” the man said.

“She didn’t say a thing,” I made Mr. Haskell say. I hoped I got his voice correct, but even I could hear that it was a little off.

This man (Hamish Wilkins) seemed to notice that too. 

“Did you come down with a cold?” I had never come down with a cold myself, but I had heard several at Hydra complaining of them, so I copied them as well as I could.

“A bit. I’m a little congested,” Mr. Wilkins seemed to buy that. He nodded in agreement.

“So we have nothing, except that she was Hydra, judging by her uniform. Wouldn’t Captain America be useful right now?” Mr. Wilkins laughed dryly.

The product of the Avenger’s so called “Civil War” that took place a couple of months ago no doubt. I had been informed of the Civil War and what it meant for me. The Winter Soldiers in cyro had died, but that didn’t double or triple any effort on my part. They had only been taken out for worst case scenarios and those only happened every few years, although I had expected it to get worse after the original Winter Soldier went MIA. 

The first few months after the Soldier had left had been an experience to get used to. More missions, less people to run them.

At any rate, Mr. Wilkins and “Mr. Haskell” started to walk down the hall. It was getting harder for me to manipulate the camera image. In a few paces, I would probably have to let it go. The mist was creeping further into my vision. Soon I would be completely blind from it, and I had no idea what I would do if that were to happen. I didn’t even know if I would be able to escape or function, so I was better off letting the illusion in the room go sooner or later. 

“So do you think that she actually killed Ms. Zoe Howes? She’s so young. She looks around the same age as Amy,” Mr. Wilkins said. I nodded along, not knowing who Amy was. A child, definitely. 

I would have to let the image I held of the room go if I was to answer this question. As soon as I did, the fog crept back from my eyesight slightly.

“Ms. Howes didn’t have any mentions of suicide attempts on her file. I could see her committing suicide if she was threatened violently enough, but I don’t think that was enough of a reason.

I thought they would have been notified that I had left, or at least called attention to the fact that I was gone, but it looked like everyone was sweetly ignorant. Mr. Wilkins continued to talk as we walked down the hall and I chipped my word in ever so often. From his constant, ignorant chatter, I learned that we were still inside Stark Tower, although I had been moved to the “Medbay”. It was strange.

We walked out the door and went up an elevator about 20 floors. 

“Prisoner F-Prime has escaped. Repeat. Prisoner F-Prime has escaped,” I heard through Wilkins comm. Well, at least they had caught on.

“Copy that. Haskell and I were the last to see her. Do you need assistance?” Honestly, the way Mr. Wilkins conducted himself was nauseating. 

“No assistance needed,” came through the comm. Thank Red Skull.

We continued to head up in the elevator. It was silent except for the tune that was playing from the invisible speakers.

Finally, the door opened. The floor was well lit by the windows to the west, where the sun was setting. The whole room was drenched in golden light. There were desks and chairs in the room, but they were mostly empty.

“They must all be trying to find Prisoner F-Prime,” Wilkins said as he collapsed at a desk. I sat at a desk next to his. Luckily, it seemed to be Haskell’s. There were pictures of him with a young woman and a child. My heart skipped a beat as my eyes passed over the face of the young girl. I had no idea why it did that. Sympathy? The Storm was not sympathetic. I was not sympathetic

“It would certainly make sense,” I said in Haskell’s voice. That definitely wasn’t right. 

“Man, do you need a cough drop? Your voice sounds awful!” Wilkins chuckled.

Just as he did, another voice came through the comm.

“Haskell is dead,” the voice sounded heavy.

“Sir, I’m with him right now,” Wilkins seemed confused. How dense was he?

“Then Wilkins, you can explain to me why I’m staring at his body,” Wilkins’ face turned white.

“I know where Prisoner F-Prime is sir,” Wilkins said, eying me, seeing what I would do next. 

“Хуй,” I cursed him.

“Wilkins, where are you?” A voice yelled through Wilkins’ comm.

“I-” I pounced on him. His neck snapped cleanly. I heard the crack echo through the comms as they slowly fell silent. I pulled the comm out of his ear before letting his limp body thump to the floor.

“Don’t try to follow me, or your fate will be the same as his,” I whispered through the comm.

“What do you want?” an officer said. It almost sounded like he was begging, and I almost brought myself to give him a more heartfelt answer, one that almost sprung from my lips for some unknown reason.

_ I want to get home.  _ My mind had said, urging me to say those words, almost spitting them out of my mouth in spite. But I bit my tongue and held them back. Those thoughts were not my own. Hydra was my home, and I knew no different. 

I pushed the thought of saying any of that to the back of my mind, letting it simmer there like a deadly virus, out to get me, coming to kill me when the time was right. 

“Hail Hydra,” I snarled before crushing the comm in my hand. I rid my hands of any spare pieces and wires before continuing on.

Stark Tower was a bit of a maze. 

I relocated to the vents in the ceiling, trying to find a way down to the first floor lobby that would not get me caught or killed. Once I got to the lobby, I could make myself invisible or disguise myself as a worker (whatever would be easiest as soon as I got there) and make my way out and to the rendezvous point. There a Hydra vehicle would pick me up and take me back to base. I shivered in anticipation for my reward. Maybe I would get a bigger bowl of porridge in the morning, or a hot shower? I hadn’t had a hot shower in weeks.

But I would probably be punished for getting caught. Not to mention that Doctor Galley could always sense when my allegiance ever wavered, even if it was only for a second. I would definitely be punished harshly if she ever found that out.

I sighed silently, a skill I had perfected from many hours alone in my room. I would have to make peace with the fact that I would be getting punished when I got back to Hydra. 

I moved along, careful to make no noise as I moved along in the vents. It was a bit odd that they were wide enough to fit what felt to be a full grown man, but I couldn’t judge. I was a bit thankful actually. They held up well, barely making a creak as I moved around carefully.

Suddenly, my neck burned. I hissed quietly, bringing my hand to hover above the small metal rectangle ingrained in my neck, it’s small wires twisting the length of my spinal cord to my brain. I didn’t dare touch the metal, lest I wanted a nasty burn on my fingertips as well.

A message coursed through the wires, and I understood it’s language.

**_Stay_ ** _. Get caught. We will have a mission for you at a later date. _

Stay?

What mission?

But I wasn’t in any position to disobey orders. I had to get caught

There was an opening in the vent a couple feet ahead of me, a way out. I could tell the screws were weak from where I was crouched. It wouldn’t be able to take my weight. First I needed to see what was underneath.

I looked through the vent.

The lobby. I had actually made it to the lobby. A great feat, as I had no idea where I was going most of the time. There were several people milling around, but not many and not where I was going to land. But it was at least a 20 foot drop from the vent to the floor. If I were to fall wrong, there would be no way I would survive, even if I wasn’t quite human. I sighed and started to loosen the vent screws.

“Prisoner F-Prime located,” a robotic voice screamed. The voice almost sounded human, but her message wasn’t good for me.

Or was it? I was supposed to be caught, wasn’t I?

“Central lobby, vent cover 17,” the voice announced. The people walking around the lobby started shrieking and running for cover. Why? No clue. 

Teams dressed in black with large guns appeared, far more prepared than the guards that had faced me last time. Would they kill me? A question for later. 

Just as I was contemplating how to fall out of the vent without it looking like it was done on purpose, several miniscule drones that had somehow made it into the vents squealed at me, scaring me off my feet and down into the vent cover, which released on impact, sending me plummeting to the ground and guards 20 feet below. 

I had enough time to control my impact and make sure I wouldn’t die before I was hit by a lucky shot from the guards. It must have been a sedative inside a dart. I didn’t have time to look at before I blacked out.

  
  



	4. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this was delayed a day. I wasn't feeling all that great yesterday and binging Doctor Who with my sister sounded better than reading and posting a chapter.

This time, I didn’t open my eyes. They opened by themselves.

I had the feeling I wasn’t quite awake. I felt drowsy and sick, almost like all those times that the Hydra scientists had poked and prodded and stuck needles into my skin, all for the sake of making me better. A better soldier. A better weapon. 

I looked up a little and saw a person with a white mask on. The bright light above stung my eyes. I winced and tried to bring my hand up to block the light, but my arm would not respond. 

“She’s conscious,” the person standing over me announced, a man I figured, “Could you put her back under please?”

Just a few moments later, my eyes became heavy and I was sinking into darkness once more.

When I woke up again, there was no one around. I sat up, looking around. I was in a white room. A cell. 

The room was slightly larger than the one I had woken up in after I was captured the first time, but not by much. The walls, ceiling, and floor were all padded except for a mirror on one side of the wall parallel to the bed, which was no doubt double-sided. A small opening to my right led to another room, most likely the bathroom. The bed itself looked like it extended from the wall, as well as a small plastic table and bench in the corner adjacent to the bed. I spotted a camera in all four corners of the room.

I swung my legs over the side of the cot, which I had to admit was far more comfortable than my cot at Hydra. I had no aches or pains in my shoulders, hips, or neck like I usually did. And there was this thing on the cot, right under where my head had lain. There had been some in the sterile white room from before too.

I stared at it suspiciously. What was its purpose? What did it do? Was it to brainwash me and put chemicals inside of me?

“That’s a pillow,” a voice came from the ceiling after a round of a staticy sound came through. It was different from the voice that had announced my location before I was captured. It sounded less robotic, not to mention that it was male.

“A pillow? What is its purpose?”

“To, um, go under your head and help you sleep better?” The voice sounded skeptical. Almost amused in a way. 

I scowled at the pillow. No doubt they were trying to brainwash me. 

I tried to pick up the pillow, but it wouldn’t budge. That’s when I noticed the cuffs on my wrists. There was no chain, they were large and bulky, and completely molded to the shape of my wrist. There would be no escaping from these cuffs; I couldn’t see them in my mind when I tried to reach out to take them off. I could feel rashes from them already forming though they couldn’t have been on for more than a few hours. 

“The pillow’s attached to the bed. And those cuffs are only precautions. We won’t need to use them if you behave,” I nodded. I could behave for the time being.

“Want me to give you the full tour?” The voice in the ceiling asked.

“Where am I?” I asked instead.

The voice fell silent for a minute before answering me.

“Can’t tell you that,” he said. I looked around. 

Underneath the cot looked suspicious.

“Wha-what are you doing?” the voice asked, almost panicked as I slipped under the overhang. 

Looking up at the underside of the cot, there was a small emblem, I almost didn’t spot it, but when I did, it clearly read Stark Industries.

“Still at Stark Tower?” I poked my head out from underneath, “Right?” 

The voice sighed.

“Yeah. Can I show you around?” he said in a whiny tone. I nodded from under the cot. 

“Well, that’s your bed, obviously. There’s a desk to your left. There’s some paper and pencils in the wall cupboards,” Wall cupboards? I tried to stand up from the floor, only to sit back on the bed again. My vision spun a little bit and I felt bile creep up my throat before I swallowed it back down again. It wouldn’t be good to throw up here.

“Yeah, you might be a little dizzy for a bit. Sorry ‘bout that. The bathroom is that little door to your right. Toilet, shower, sink; the works when you’re up to it,”

I was getting a little sick of his light tone, but that might have also been standing up. At this point, I wasn’t so sure which was more likely. 

“And that mirror. Double-sided by the way, just in case we want to take extra precaution. It’s pretty much indestructible, vibranium infused I think, and has broken people’s hands before, so it’s probably not a good idea to punch it if you feel the need. Try the walls instead,” so this man was pretty much unbiased to self-harm. Must have seen a lot of it if he worked here.

“There’s cameras all around this room and just sound in the bathroom for privacy, so don’t do anything or we’ll catch it. Meals will come three times a day,” Three times a day? That is a lot of food, “There are extra pairs of clothes in the bathroom and a hamper in the wall for dirty clothes. Clothes are washed once a week and there are only seven pairs for you, including the pair you have on now,” I glanced down at my attire. I was in a grey short sleeve shirt and black sweatpants. Just another reminder that my suit and my meticulously crafted weapons were most likely gone forever. My heart sank; all of my hard work was gone.

Nevertheless, the man continued:

“...so don’t take more than one shower a day. Fifteen-minute shower limit by the way. I think that’s all. Any questions?” I shook my head, but stopped when my head spun again.

“You look a little green around the gills. Maybe you should rest up,”

“Don’t tell me what to do!” I hissed.

“Well, you might be here until you die, so not my problem,” I thought about dying. I could probably end it somehow. With this room I would have to get creative. 

Why was I thinking that? Hydra had a mission for me. A few days and I would be back.

“Before I go. What’s your name?” I heard something click in the background, probably a pen. He was writing this down.

“H-T-5-7,” I pronounced slowly. 

“HT57?” the man said, sounding skeptical, “That can’t be your real name,”

“It’s the only name I’ve ever known,” which was true. If I tried to think past the last few months, I started getting a nasty headache.

“Okay? Goodnight,” With that, my ears were assaulted with violent static and then the room silenced.

That was strange. But the man was probably right; I needed sleep. So I laid down on the comfortable cot, wiring my arms over my chest and put my head down on the strange pillow.

All of a sudden, the static assaulted me again.

“There’s a blanket in the cupboard at the head of the bed too,” the man said before the static announced his departure once more. 

I craned my head up the wall, spotting a small square in the otherwise smooth panel. There was a finger-sized opening on the left. I pulled it out and found a thick blue blanket.

Why did it have to be blue?

I pulled it out and hugged it to my chest. I was warm enough as it was. I didn’t need that type of comfort.

With Hydra leaving me in the dark, I didn’t really know what sort of comfort I needed at the moment anyway. I just hugged the blanket to my chest and hoped that it wouldn’t take a long time for me to fall asleep.

For once, my wish was granted. 

When I woke up, my head felt clearer and I could breathe easier. I was still alone in the awful white room with padded walls and that stupid mirror, but I felt a little less hostile than I had before. Maybe it was the drugs that were no doubt inside that strange pillow.

Nevertheless, I swung my legs over the bed and stood. I wasn’t dizzy, so that was a good sign. I made my way over to the bathroom, exploring.

Inside the small bathroom was a small toilet, a shower inside a tub sort of thing with a sheer curtain, and a sink with a little mirror hanging above it. Both the tub thing and the sink had open drains, I noticed. Probably for good reason. 

I caught a glimpse of myself as I walked past the mirror. My cheeks were paler than normal and were spotted with tiny bumps. And now that I thought of it, I could smell myself, and it was nowhere near pleasant. How long had I gone without a shower? I turned away from my reflection. I was a disappointment, how could I look at myself?

“How long have I been here?” I asked, to myself mostly, but I was half hoping the man in the ceiling would answer. He didn’t. I shrugged and continued to explore the small bathroom, vowing to take a shower as soon as I was done. 

The walls were still padded, but with a more solid and smooth padding, probably to prevent the mold and mildew that had ridded my bathroom in my room at Hydra. I saw cupboards in the walls identical to the cupboard where I had found the blanket (which now lay crumpled on the floor). I opened one up to find three white towels. The other was more of a drawer, neatly displaying six outfits similar to the one I had on now. The final cupboard was a box. It extended out when I opened it, coming out of the wall with the door. There was nothing in it. I assumed it was the hamper. 

As soon as I finished exploring all the items the new area had to offer, I stripped and turned on the shower, letting the cold water wash over me.

I quickly located the soap in a little alcove inside the shower; there were two bottles and a soap bar like the one I used at Hydra. Though I recognized the bottles, labeled shampoo and conditioner respectively, I didn’t need them at the moment, so I let them be. It took me only a couple minutes to shower after that. 

When I got out of the shower, I grabbed a towel and a change of clothes. 

As soon as I was dressed, I sat on my bed again.

There was no way of telling time.

I was so bored.

A meal came about an hour after I had gotten out of the shower. I had spent that time laying on my bed, contemplating everything and nothing at the same time. When would Hydra have a mission for me? When would I get out of this place?

The only thing that dragged me from my thought process was a tiny whirring. I looked up and located the sound.

On the desk, something was emerging from a thin, long hole in the wall. As it continued to come out, I saw that it was a tray. 

All of a sudden, my stomach growled quietly. I groaned. There were definitely drugs in the pillow. My stomach never growled. 

How long had it been since I last ate? Surely it couldn’t have been that long. There was breakfast, then I went on my mission, which lasted a few hours after midday, and then I was drugged, so I most likely slept through the night, or longer considering I had just slept again and the fact that I woke up once and was drugged again.

I had no idea how long it had been since I had last eaten, but it was at least 24 hours. Which might explain why my stomach was growling. 

I walked over to the table where the steaming tray lay. There were several unfamiliar things on it, and it was in colour, which was odd. Porridge was grey and the nutrition drink I was given before bed was a dull brown, sometimes black, or a lighter grey, depending on what type of nutrition I needed at the moment. 

But on this plate, there were some yellow… seeds? There were a lot of them piled in one section of the plate. I got a fork (at least I knew what that was) from one side of the tray and scooped a few of them in my mouth.

It was sweet. And warm. A little crunchy but kind of slimy at the same time. It was weird, the taste I had heard some call “flavorful”, and it was certainly more flavorful than anything else that I had ever eaten. 

I shoveled a few more of them in my mouth, eating quickly because I surprised myself by actually liking it. Soon, all of the little, strange, yellow seeds were gone.

I almost moved on to the other items on the plate (two slabs of something with other odd things put between them, an orange round ball type thing, and a glass of water) before I stopped myself. I had to be cautious. And while the unfamiliar items on the tray were curious and I wanted to know what they were, I also didn’t want to risk anything, especially with the fact that Hydra would be giving me a mission soon, somehow. 

I leaned back on the bench, staring at the food. After the yellow seeds, my stomach was no longer growling. I didn’t need any more food. I was okay. 

I got up and sat back down on the bed again, staring at the wall. It only took a few minutes for the voice in the ceiling to announce his return with a burst of static. 

“Are you not going to eat the rest of your lunch?” What was lunch? The evening meal? The second or third?

“I’m not hungry anymore,” I answered plainly. I could throw him off with a question, and then maybe he wouldn’t bother me anymore, “What is your name?”

The man stuttered through for a second before answering;

“My name’s Mark,” I nodded.

“My name is Mark,” Mark repeated, “And I would very much appreciate if you ate more than just your corn,” So the yellow seed was called corn. 

“What’s the orange ball thing?” I asked.

“An orange,” Mark deadpanned.

“It can’t be called an orange!” I exclaimed.

“Why can’t it be called an orange?” he asked.

“Because that’s it’s color! If you have a red food do you call it a red? Why isn’t corn called yellow then?” I asked, suddenly curious. If they did that would be so strange.

“No, we don’t call all fruits by their name. We have apples, cherries, and strawberries, and a lot of other fruits that are red. And we have bananas and squash that are yellow,”

I laughed a little.

“That’s so stupid,”

“I don’t make the rules, kid. Please at least eat your sandwich though,” Mark seemed like he was begging.

“What if you drugged it?’ 

“Why in heaven’s name would we drug you?”

“All sorts of reasons. I don’t make the rules,” I said, imitating Mark. 

I could hear Mark sigh. 

“Fine, but at least put the tray back in the slot,”

Just as he said it, the slot in the wall opened up once more. I walked back over and pushed the tray in. It disappeared and I sat down at the desk. Mark left in a burst of static. 

I sighed. This would not be fun.

There were a few hours where I was on my own. A few hours seems like a very long time when you are all by yourself, especially when it seems like you had no one to talk to or nothing to think about. I tried talking to Mark several times, but he refused to show up. 

So I was on my own with nothing to do.

I stared at the ceiling. It was white, still padded.

Suddenly, there was static, which announced a voice, but it wasn’t Mark. It was a woman speaking, to start with. The accent was familiar, but the voice itself was not. It was the voice of someone who had been raised inside the international organization of Hydra, seemingly a mix of popular languages and accents inside Hydra. It was my original accent, but I had not spoken that way in a long time. I mostly spoke in either an American or British accent if I had to speak English. The original Hydra accent was ugly and shameful, and it brought unwanted attention when used in public. 

And somehow this woman had not yet realized it.

“ _ Storm _ ,” The woman spoke. I stood up from my bed, my spine straight and hands behind me, my feet spread shoulder length for respect.

“ _ Mission: Download all files from the Stark Research and Development department and any files related to the Avengers Initiative and its members. Hail Hydra. _ ” I nodded and saluted before the intercom shut off with a crackle. 

I didn’t hear any more from the voice.


	5. Chapter Four

I groaned.

It had been days and I had made no leads in escaping from this damned cell. 

I got up and banged my head on the wall. It didn’t hurt, which was unfortunate, but it felt right. I had nothing better to do anyway. I turned around and slid down the wall, letting my mind tear itself apart and put itself back together again out of pure frustration. 

Hydra was so much better than this. I was never bored, even if I was left to my own devices in my room for a few hours. There was always something to do, missions to think about, or weapons to design and perfect in my head. Now, I couldn’t think, and the white walls that confined me were annoying me to death.

But my head hurt to even think about that, so I didn’t. 

I groaned again. 

“That bad?” a voice spoke from the ceiling. It wasn’t Mark. I hadn’t heard from Mark since a day or two after I was brought here. Must have been moved or disposed of or something. 

I groaned again for extra measure.

The voice didn’t answer back. 

I stayed there for a little while, just thinking. Half of the thoughts Hydra and what awaited me when I finished my mission, a little bit analyzing the room over and over, trying to find a potential way to break out, and the remaining bit planning how I would move as soon as I did get out. 

I felt a headache growing, which never happened usually. If it were Hydra, I would chalk it up to no sleep or lack of water for a substantial amount of time, but I had been sleeping when the lights shut out at “night” and drank the water from the sink to avoid possibly getting poisoned. Maybe the water was drugged. I did take a couple of sips unknowingly when meals came around. Maybe it was the food. Yet I hadn’t been eating much of the food either. 

Whatever it was, the headache wasn’t good for thinking. I needed to find a way to escape after all. 

Maybe a nap would help? I tried laying on my cot for what I perceived as an hour, but sleep didn’t come. In fact, my headache only grew worse, turning into a raging migraine that made me feel sick to my stomach. I had never been sick before, but I had heard people complain of it. I couldn’t blame them; this was awful.

I groaned and rolled off my cot, making my way over to the desk. I pulled out a piece of paper and a pencil from the hidden cabinet and started to draw.

“Whatcha doin’?” The voice asked a few minutes later. To be honest, I had tuned out what I was drawing to pay more attention to the pain my head was giving me, and what I was writing wasn’t even readable to most. It was in cursive for some reason, and considering that it looked like I was drawing a blueprint, that wasn’t good. 

“Drawing something,” I murmured, as speaking any louder caused the pain in my head to spike. 

“Whatcha drawing then?” I heard the man bite into something, probably a sandwich with that green crunchy stuff, considering the sound it made. Lettuce?

“I don’t know,”

“That makes no sense, how could you not know what-” 

“Could you please… just be quiet. My head hurts and you’re only making it worse,” It didn’t take long for the man to shut up after that.

I finished whatever I was drawing in a few minutes and once again laid on my cot, finally sinking into a restless sleep. 

I didn’t dream. 

I never dreamt. 

I never had reason to dream. My mind was highly intelligent and remembered items and information with little effort. My mind didn’t require dreams as for memory.

If I didn’t need to dream, why was I dreaming?

I stood in a dark, concrete room. My own from Hydra. All five cots were arranged neatly, four pushed against two walls opposite each other and the other placed on a third wall parallel to the door. Empty nightstands stood beside the cots. 

“You know your mission,” Doctor Galley’s voice rang in my head, causing my pounding headache to spike. The voice echoed around the room as the door swung open. 

Two children walked in, a boy and a girl. Both had curly hair that stuck off their heads and a light frame, but the boy was dark skinned and taller, while the girl was slightly fairer. 

Of course, I recognized myself even if I didn’t remember being that young. I had no clue who the other boy was. 

Both the other boy and the younger me walked over to the cot in the middle of the wall, my cot, and sat on it. Younger Me sighed back and slid down the wall while the boy stayed straight backed and alert. 

I cocked my head. Even though I was in my own head, in this dream I had a physical body separate from my younger self’s. It wasn’t a memory. It was watching, observing. Surely this was wrong. 

Then the boy spoke in a tongue, a language that I recognized but couldn’t quite recall the name of. It started with an “S”, I was sure of it. 

“ _ Sit up! They could be back any minute!”  _ My younger self sat up and answered back.

“ _ They will not! As soon as we are in here, they do not care about us!” _

The boy looked back at my younger self.

“ _ I assure you sister, they do, _ ”

I woke up in a cold sweat. The haunted expression on the boy’s face seemed to be seared on the back of my eyelids. 

The hairs on the back of my neck stood up on end, whether from a dream or from the strange feeling in the pit of my stomach I couldn’t tell. What I did know was that someone was behind the mirror. I could feel their body heat, and hear every beat of their heart. The air created a vague form of a short man.

“Hello. I’m Tony Stark.” The person behind the mirror announced, his voice clear even though the speakers had been staticy before. I almost jumped out of my skin at the sudden voice, but didn’t feel compelled to answer it. I did not know who he was, and though his voice was friendly, I couldn’t help but feel hostile toward him. 

“I was wondering about the blueprints you drew last night,” It had really been that long? I must have slept off my headache, because my head felt like it was empty, almost drained somehow.

I looked back on my table, where I last left my sketches. The small desk was empty, no paper on it. I walked over to check the alcove above it, but it only had clean paper.

“Did you take them?” I asked. 

“Excuse me?” The man, Tony Stark, answered.

“Did you take them? They aren’t here!”

“I think you fail to see why I would take them. Why would I ask you about them if I did?” I opened my mouth to answer, but he was right, as much as I hated to admit it. 

“How did you even get the education to create plans like that? Hydra isn’t exactly known for their school systems,”

“I pick things up quickly,” I answered, my voice devoid of emotion. I had been taught enough math and chemistry in my short years to know where things should go and how to create weapons and compounds strong enough to kill a whole room. 

“I’ll say. What are you, 10?” I don’t know my age, but I definitely wasn’t an adult yet. I was older than 10, maybe 11 or 12. The question was, how much older?

I didn’t answer, because I didn’t even know the answer.

“Well, if you ever need anything, door’s to your left. Hope you don’t have to break out to get it,” My head snapped to the left. My mission. Thank Hydra it was saved. I know how to get out, and even though it was said in passing, it put me ahead, or at least on track. 

“Nice talking to you, I guess,” and with that, I assumed that Tony Stark left and I would never hear from him again. 

Now, if I could only get some wires or pieces of metal without anyone noticing. My powers could come in handy then, but not too much or… I don’t know quite what would happen. For all I know, nothing could happen, but I couldn’t afford to risk the chance of dying or worse.

Back to the plan. If I could get wires and pieces of metal, I could possibly create an effect not unlike that of a laser. With the laser advanced enough, if I could find the right materials, I could multiply the burning effect enough to slice through the door and to freedom. And now that I knew where the door was, this step would be even easier. 

All I had to do was steal a spoon and hijack my cell. 

Thank you Tony Stark. You have aided Hydra with your efforts and information. 

And nothing, not even that pesky dream and headaches would bother my escape. 

**End of Part One**


	6. Part Two: The Conundrum

I'm trapped inside a tower,

I've been locked and lost the key,

Now the darkness that creeps in at night,

Is my only company,

No-one tries to save me here,

Since they can't hear my cries,

I pass my days in solitude,

Watch the world move on outside,

This tower isn't very grand,

It's really not that tall,

But I still can't escape it,

I can't break free at all,

You can't see this tower, 

Just believe it's there instead

Because my tower isn't made of stone,

It's all inside my head.

~e.h.

**I Am The Storm**

**Part Two**

**The Conundrum**

**8/9/20**


	7. Chapter Five

It was the end of the school day, and Peter Parker could not be more thankful. While Peter usually enjoyed school, Fridays were bittersweet days. Often there were several quizzes and there was always at least one teacher that assigned weekend homework, which put a dent in Peter’s Spider-Manning schedule. And honestly, who really wanted to work on weekends?

“Hey, Peter,” Ned said, walking up next to Peter as they made their way out of school, “You wanna come over to my house and rebuild my lego Death Star? I was moving it yesterday and I tripped, so it’s broken now. Again” he added. 

“I can’t. You know the Stark Internship?”

“Yeah, the one with Spider-Man and stuff,” Ned said, lowering his voice in case anyone decided to eavesdrop.

“Yeah. Mr. Stark has been inviting me over to the lab every Friday to work lately, so it’s now sort of an actual internship now? It’s really strange, but it’s fun,”

Ned stared at Peter.

“And when were you going to tell me this,” the boy had betrayal written all over his face, but it disappeared in a second after Peter spoke. 

“I told you a couple weeks ago when it first happened,”

“I thought that was a kinda one time thing,”

“Same here, but it turned into an every Friday kind of thing, and I could never find a time to tell you when someone wasn’t watching,”

“Makes sense I guess,” Ned shrugged, “It’s still so cool that you get to go over there every Friday! What do you even do?”

“We just work on different stuff in his lab. I updated my web shooters last week and am going to start a new project this week. At least that’s what Mr. Stark said. I think I might ask if I can test out some new web combinations,”

“So it’s good for Spiderman?”

“I mean, yeah. I patrol a little less, but it’s okay. I get better stuff to use on patrol and if I get hurt Mr. Stark makes sure I get the best care. So, yeah, it’s good for Spiderman,”

Ned nodded. They walked out the doors into the crisp November air. Students loitered outside the school, some waiting for their parents, others for friends or siblings. Ned waved goodbye and walked over to his mom’s car. Peter scanned the parking lot, looking for the typical black car that Happy drove. Spotting it, he walked over and slid into the back seat. 

“Hi Happy,” Peter said.

“Hey Peter. How was school?” Happy had been a lot nicer to him after the whole Homecoming fiasco a few months ago, but there were still only a few words exchanged between the two at a time. Peter was okay with it, if he was being honest. 

“It was good. I still have some homework though,” Peter said. Happy nodded and left him to his work. 

Peter pulled out his math homework and began to work on it, which proved unsuccessful as he was already caught up in his thoughts.

After Homecoming, Peter was a little torn up about Liz moving away, but if he really thought about it, even if they did start dating, it probably would work out. Liz was a few years older than him and would be going to college soon. And, excluding the age difference, Peter couldn’t keep a secret to save his life. He was half convinced that all of New York knew that he was Spider-Man. The fact that he was Spider-Man and Spider-Man got Liz’s dad locked up probably wouldn’t be a good thing if they were ever in a relationship. And the fact that Peter walked out of Homecoming probably wouldn’t have helped him either.

And then May found out about Spider-Man. That was  _ fun _ , to say the least. May had grounded him for two weeks, and Peter stands by his word when he says that was two of the worst weeks of his life. No Spider-Man, no Ned, no Delmar’s. 

Eventually, after he had been grounded and May had cooled down, the two of them sat down and talked. Eventually they came to a consensus that as long as Peter’s grades didn’t drop and he didn’t stay out after curfew, Peter could continue being Spider-Man. 

The one good thing that came out of Homecoming was that Mr. Stark started paying a little more attention to him. Not much, but it was definitely more than it was before Homecoming. Mt. Stark’s usual Peter-helping activities included checking in on him sometimes, sending a few new updates for his suit, talking to Aunt May on occasion, and that was really all. Even though Mr. Stark had been more present in the whole Spider-Man thing as of late, Peter almost passed out when he suggested that the “Internship” become an actual internship. 

So there Peter was, riding in a fancy car on the way to Stark Tower. Mr. Stark had decided to buy the tower back about a month after Homecoming, before the other company had even had the chance to use it. It was actually a great asset to Stark Industries (Mr. Stark and Ms. Potts both agreed). Apparently, it had taken much negotiation, so parts of the company had only moved back there a few weeks back, corresponding with when Mr. Stark actually suggested the internship become a real internship.

All around, Peter was generally content.

Peter worked on his homework for a few minutes before they arrived at Stark Tower. Peter was always blown away by how big and lavish the Tower was, but when he confessed this to Happy, the older man only said he would get used to it eventually. Peter didn’t really want to get used to it; he wanted to appreciate it. Obviously, others didn’t share his views, but that was okay. 

The elevator ride up to Mr. Stark’s lab seemed too long, even though it was only a couple seconds. Though Peter thought the elevator was cool, the Lab was even cooler. Peter was almost shaking in excitement and anticipation, as was custom every time he had come up here. Mr. Stark’s lab was just so  _ cool.  _

When Peter arrived on the lab floor, Mr. Stark was in the middle of the floor, fidgeting with an Iron Man boot. Holo Screens all around the older man reflected blue around the room and music was playing loudly out of the hidden speakers. Peter threw his backpack on a spare chair and made his way over to where Mr. Stark was working. 

Mr. Stark looked up and instructed Friday to turn down the music as Peter drew near. Peter wondered how Mr. Stark heard him over the loud AC/DC.

Even from a distance, Peter could see the large bags under the man’s eyes. He offhandedly wondered when the older man had last gotten sleep. 

“Hey Pete. What do you want to work on today,” Mr. Stark said as Peter grabbed a rolling desk chair and sat down.

“Hi, uh. I was wondering if I could work on different, um, web combinations. Today,” Peter said. Even though he had been over to the lab many times before and had seen Mr. Stark up close more times than that, it was still a little crazy to actually know your childhood hero, much less be a hero like him. Like, that was insane. No one got to do that. Which led to Peter being a little more awkward than he probably should have been.

But Mr. Stark was literally Iron Man. And that was beyond cool. So maybe Peter’s inevitable awkwardness could be explained.

Mr. Stark nodded at Peter’s request.

“Sure Kid. The chemicals are where they always are. Go crazy. Don’t blow anything up,” Tony waved him away, not unkindly, and went back to working. Peter grinned at Mr. Stark’s safety briefing that would have appalled May, but Peter knew his way around and had listened to enough monotone safety briefings from his chemistry teacher to last a lifetime. 

He worked at his own desk for about an hour, coming up with at least three different combinations that worked, and would work in certain situations. Elasticity, strength, and how long they could last would need to be worked on overall, but for now, Peter was testing the combinations in a corner of the lab where nothing was at risk of being broken. 

The last web combination clogged up the web shooter, which wasn’t good. Peter relocated back to his desk, trying to get the webbing out, also trying not to think about how much it would cost to replace these if they were broken.

_ Probably thousands of dollars, if not millions,  _ Peter thought, which wasn’t helping his anxiety whatsoever, but sometimes it’s fun to psych yourself out in order to fix a problem. 

“Having trouble over there?” Mr. Stark said from across the room. Peter’s head snapped in his direction, looking like a deer caught in headlights. 

“Um, yeah. One of the combinations clogged up the web shooter. I was trying to get it out,” Peter said, walking over to Mr. Stark, web shooters in hand.

Mr. Stark gestured to hand the shooters over. Peter nervously handed them to the man, almost dropping them in the process. Mr. Stark opened up the shooter and carefully dug out the excess web with a screwdriver.

_ What is even the point of existing at all,  _ Peter thought as Mr. Stark handed the web shooter back.

“Thanks Mr. Stark,” Peter said, blushing red.

“Anytime kid. And you can call me Tony if you want,” Mr. Stark said. Peter could feel his ears heating up. Calling Mr. Stark Tony just seemed so informal. He had only known the man a couple of months after all. 

Peter quickly glanced at the holo screens Mr. Stark had pulled up. There seemed to be security footage of a girl that looked a few years younger than Peter. She was in a cell, which was a little strange for someone who looked like they shouldn’t even be in high school. 

“Who’s that?” Peter asked, pointing at the screens. Mr. Stark glanced to where Peter was pointing. 

“That is our latest Hydra Agent. Or Hydra Assassin most likely. She killed Zoe Howes, an employee down in BioMed. I did a little more looking into Howes’ background and it turns out she was an ex-Hydra employee, but she was brilliant. Developed some really advanced stuff. Reducing carbon footprint. There were rumours of a medicine to cure cancer,”

Peter was still staring at the girl in the cell. He noticed she did quite a bit of pacing, her bald head bouncing up and down with every stride. 

He had heard most of the information about Zoe Howes on the news, but the news casters had said the person who had killed her was unknown. This was all new. 

Mr. Stark must have noticed Peter’s interest in the girl on the screen. 

“She obviously has genius level intellect. Two days ago, she drew up some complicated specks on some nanotech, which is extremely complicated, even for me. Of course, from what I could see of the plans, the particles would implode if they were ever used, though they could be used as a weapon in certain situations. Though considering she’s with Hydra, that might have been what she wanted. I wouldn’t put it past her,”

The pair spent a couple more minutes watching the feed. It wasn’t like the girl was doing much though; she was now just sitting on the bed, not moving, barely even breathing. It got boring pretty quick.

“What did you say her name was again?” Peter asked, curious.

“She said her name was HT57,” Mr. Stark made a face, “Which is awful. To call a person by a number,” 

“Yeah it is,” Peter agreed. 

There were a few moments of silence before Peter said;

“Can I meet her?” 

Tony chuckled quietly.

“No. I think your aunt would murder me if I let you meet a murderer,” 

“Oh yeah,” Peter said, turning red again, “Forgot about that detail,”

There were a few moments of silence before Tony spoke again. 

“They’re supposed to start interrogation tomorrow. For her sake, I hope she’ll give more information than we have right now,”

“Why?” Peter said. His face must have said how much he disagreed and Mr. Stark must have noticed it. 

“I agree,” he said, pointing at Peter.

“But it’s a little out of my control. While she may be a minor, she still works for Hydra, which means that she could have useful information about the organization. And as soon as the government finds out that she’s being held in this tower, they will have no calamities against collecting her, sticking her in a prison for the rest of her life, and torturing her for information. The least we can do here is help her get out of Hydra’s influence, if not redeem herself and give her a semi-normal life.”

Peter nodded along as Mr. Stark spoke. Just because it made sense in the long run didn’t really mean it was fair now, though. 

“Still, kinda want to meet her though,” Peter said, grinning.

Mr. Stark shook his head, smiling.

“Of course you would kid, but your aunt would have my head. I rather like it where it is right now. Now, do you need help with your webs, Webs?”

Peter rolled his eyes at the nickname.

“Yeah Mr. Stark, I do,” 

“Nice, what have you worked on already?”

As the pair worked on the web shooters, Peter tried not to think of the young girl trapped in a cell downstairs, but he always seemed to come back to it. 

But he couldn’t really do anything right now, as much as he hated to admit it. All he could do was wait.

  
  
  
  
  



	8. Chapter Six

My neck  _ really _ hurt. 

That was the first thought that came to me when I woke up cuffed to a chair in the middle of an empty room. It was cold, but brightly light, the offwhite walls completely blank. The room wasn’t entirely empty; it had me and the chair I was cuffed to and another chair about seven feet in front of me. Behind that chair was a mirror. I didn’t feel like craning my neck around to see behind me, but the purpose for this room was clear.

This was an interrogation room.

These rooms were pretty standard, and they didn’t change much no matter where you went. Of course, some would have tables, more chairs, or would be smaller or larger depending on the space of the building. But I could always see an interrogation room for what it was. Though this was one of the nicer ones I had seen. 

A part of me just always hoped I would always be the one asking questions, not the other way around. 

Interrogation at Hydra was always rather violent. I had seen and taken part in these events, and even though I knew it was for a worthy cause, it always made my stomach turn. The blood and the screaming had a way of making me wish I could disappear, to run and never come back. Though I had never had to leave the room (not that I could have anyway), it was always in the back of my mind when I had to participate in an interrogation. 

There was a small emotion bubbling up in the pit of my stomach, and though I knew what it was, I refused to admit it to myself. I would not be scared. I had been training for something like this my whole life, and while I knew there was always a low chance of it happening, I still knew it could happen, and so did my superiors. I was prepared. 

I noticed my breathing was starting to become erratic, so I closed my eyes and took deep breaths to calm myself down. That was the first step of not giving in: stay calm and collected. Clear your mind of anything you know or thought you knew. Your allegiance lies with Hydra and Hydra alone.

I opened my eyes and stared ahead of me. Second step: don’t break under silence. Silence is good. Silence is not giving away information. 

I sat there for about 10 minutes in silence, waiting. Then, a woman walked into the room. She was wearing dark clothing, with dark bags under her eyes to match. Her blonde hair was pulled up into a tight bun. Everything about her radiated order and stiffness, but when she smiled at me, it was kind. She held a small paper pad and pen in her hand.

“Hello,” she said, sitting down in the chair opposite me in a more relaxed, slouched way than I had expected from her, “I’m Jean Wilkinson and I am going to ask you a few simple questions before we really start. Is that okay?” I didn’t answer, I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of breaking me down.

“You said that your name was HT57? Is that correct? Is this what you are called on a regular basis?” I was called “Girl” or “Asset” on a regular basis, but I didn’t tell Ms. Wilkinson, Jean, this. Though insignificant, it would still be giving information away. 

We sat in silence for quite a while, as if she didn’t know that I wasn’t going to answer. The silence must have stretched minutes with how long it felt. Her eyes locked mine and seemed to see every part of me, except the questions she wanted answered.

And I knew it would only get worse from this point. 

“Can I call you anything different? HT57 is a little strange. Not many people are called by numbers and letters alone,”

“I am,” I answered shortly, so that we could move away from this topic. 

Ms. Wilkinson looked slightly surprised that I had answered at all, and corrected her at that. Her eyebrows shot up and her posture tensed a little. She jotted down a sentence or two on her notepad.

“Okay then. You haven’t been eating much food. Is there a reason why? Allergies or specific training?” I couldn’t be sure if the food was poisoned, so I ate as little as I possibly could. I didn’t want to be brainwashed or killed over some food that wasn’t necessary. 

Ms. Wilkinson kept on staring at me. When would she realize that I wouldn’t give anything away, even the small questions that made no difference? She looked down and wrote a little more down on her pad before looking back up, staring at me. 

Well, she is persistent that she get an answer. 

Finally, thank Hydra, she seemed to give up on that question. 

“You killed Zoe Howes a couple days ago. Why did you make it look like an apparent suicide when you were seen?” Because it was easier than breaking down the door and then killing her. And I didn’t plan on getting caught.

If Ms. Wilkinson could read my mind, she would have all the answers she wanted. From what I know, Hydra produced someone with that skill set. I forgot her name, but I felt that I had met her at some point. I believe she abandoned the Greater Good for the Avengers.

I scoffed inwardly. The Avengers. What a childish idea. 

I believe Ms. Wilkinson was getting bored, and I couldn’t blame her. I was being rather boring answering none of her questions. But then again, she herself wasn’t that interesting. 

“The surviving security said they saw you fly. Can you confirm or deny this?” I had a feeling she was getting to the questions she actually wanted to ask, even though she seemed bored. She was leaning in towards me more as she asked the questions. It really was a shame she wouldn’t get any answers. 

Also, why wouldn’t you believe your own security? Of course I could fly, but it was more complicated than that. It was harnessing the air around me. If there was no air, I couldn't do much. Well, I would die, but if there was some way that I wouldn’t, then I also wouldn’t be able to use my powers. Although I understood how my powers worked, I didn’t know the full extent of  _ how _ they worked. How I could do these things. A telepathic connection with the molecules possibly? But how did science achieve that? Some serious brain chemistry must have gone about to give me the ability to do all the things I could do. 

Though, there were limits, limits I didn’t really like, but maybe I could figure out how to break eventually. Using my powers more often could possibly help.

Step three: get lost in thought, ignore the interrogator.

“Are you enhanced in any ways other than metabolism?” So they had done testing on me. Luckily, they couldn’t get much information out of examining me. So maybe I had a slightly enhanced metabolism? What information were they going to get from Hydra out of that?

And most importantly, why did this woman think that she could get information by just staring at me?

“How were you asked to use these so called powers for Hydra?” Missions. That was all I could remember about my powers. Using them and not using them. I don’t remember getting them or anything. For all I knew, I popped into existence three months ago. Past memories that resurfaced yesterday proved that theory wrong. I was still trying to make sense of that.

Ms. Wilkinson’s eyes bored into me.. She seemed like a woman who wouldn’t be used to this; she was an intimidating presence whose eyes could probably reduce grown men to blubbering messes. Unfortunately for her, I was no man and I would not be intimidated by her. 

“I know I won’t get any answers out of you, but consider what you are risking. The government will find out you’re here; it’s inevitable. They will find you and take you. They are not afraid to experiment on and torture you. They will do anything they can to get information out of you if you don’t give it now. Give yourself a chance! You’re young. You can have a life!” it was pathetic the way she was almost pleading with me. Hydra was my life, and neither she nor anyone else could take that away from me. 

She looked at me, almost hopeful, almost like she thought I was going to give in. How ignorant she was.

It took a couple minutes for her to sigh and slouch back in her seat. She asked her questions without the vigor or curiosity she had before. I suspected I had disappointed her. 

“Who are your superiors at Hydra? How do they treat you?” Everyone at Hydra is my superior, even the janitors. Of course, none of them really know they are my superiors; I doubt most of them know who I am. But in the hierarchy, I am the lowest of the low. I may be important, but no one pays attention to my actions. They don’t care. I’m there for their disposal. 

And that being said, I am treated like I am there for their disposal. I am ordered around and I do what they ask. What anyone asks. I go on missions, I dispose of people, I am given a hot shower. I wake up, I eat, I train. I listen, I am told, I don’t speak. 

It’s much better than having to tell others what to do. It is much better than having to do everything all by myself. The process is sure, always there and waiting for when I come back to it. 

Life is Hydra. Nothing can take that away from me.

“Do you have any relatives inside Hydra?” I took a sharp breath in. Ms. Wilkinson looked up from her almost empty notepad. 

I don’t even know if I do. That’s the problem. I don’t know if what I “said” was true. I didn’t even know why I gasped.

“Do you have any relatives inside Hydra?” my attention snapped back to Ms. Wilkinson. Did she repeat the question? She must have, because her pen was at the ready again. Did the rest of this interrogation give her no clues?

It took several minutes for her to wilt. 

“Okay, last question,” Ms. Wilkinson said, sighing, “What is your opinion on Hydra’s work? Answer if you want,” she seemed to have given up. She sank into the back of the chair and stared at me listlessly. 

“It’s all for the greater good isn’t it?” I said. Ms. Wilkinson jumped as I spoke. She started writing furiously on her little notepad.

“Anything else?” there was a spark in her eye again, or maybe she was just good at faking an expression. 

“No,” I answered shortly. That was it. I was done answering pointless questions. 

Ms. Wilkinson deflated slightly, but recovered herself quickly.

“That's’ all I have for today. They will come to collect you in a moment.” With that, she stood up and, sparing me one last glance, walked out of the door.

I waited for a couple of minutes in the offwhite room. It was a nice change in scenery at least, better than the white cell I had been confined in. I wondered how long I would have to wait for “them” to come and “collect me”. 

No sooner than when I thought that, the door to the interrogation room swung open, revealing a slight woman trailed by two larger men. The woman was holding a large needle. 

They were going to knock me out? That was insulting. 

As the woman grew closer, I turned my head out, exposing my neck. It wouldn’t do to struggle while getting stuck with a needle. stick the needle in my neck. Sure enough, she stuck the needle in my neck as soon as she was close. I could feel the liquid being pushed into my body as my vision grew darker.

The last thing I thought before the world went dark was this experience was not something I wanted to repeat. 

~~~

When I came to, I was laying on my cot again. The lights were shut off, leaving me in darkness. I lay still on my cot, not tired enough to fall asleep again. 

I wondered if my powers still worked. I hadn’t used them since I had been put in this cell. 

I focused on the cameras, even though it was dark. If I could project myself sleeping onto the lens, I could check if my powers worked without anyone knowing. And if they didn’t work, I had nothing to lose.

I closed my eyes and imagined my sleeping self, imprinting it in my brain and projecting it to the cameras. Immediately, my eyes, even though they were closed, were bombarded with grey fog. I smiled and focused on the pencil on the desk, using my hand to guide my actions. I picked it up, and the fog closed in further around my eyesight. I floated it over to my leg, where I let it poke me, just to make sure it was real. I grinned, eyes still closed, and let the pencil float back to its original place.

I let go of the cameras and the fog immediately retreated.

This was good. This was great. This would make my job easier and everyone else’s harder. 

I was ready to get out of this адская дыра. 


	9. Chapter Seven

Tony Stark put his head in his hands, frustrated with almost everything and everyone. He had just gotten a call from his best engineers about the newest StarkPad; apparently they couldn’t figure out how to expand the storage space without making the battery life smaller, so Tony would have to take on the project himself. He had a dinner with Pepper tonight that he needed to get ready for, Iron Man suits to update and repair, a charity event to organize, and the revised Sokovia Accords needed to be read by at least Friday. 

For the millionth time, Tony thanked whatever had possessed him to hand off Stark Industries to Pepper all those years ago. Although he wished it had been under better circumstances (not dying perhaps), he was thankful that he had done it. 

The phone on his desk started to ring (he might not run the company anymore, but unfortunately he still had to have a desk and not just work out of the lab all the time). He sighed and read the name on the receiver; Thaddeus Ross, a man currently on the list of Tony’s least favorite people. Tony picked up the phone, hoping this would be short.

“This is Tony Stark. Do you have the wrong number?”

“Very funny Stark. You know what I’m calling about.” Ross said in a low growl.

“Do I? I have had a lot going on right now, so you should probably understand that while I am a genius, I do tend to forget what others deem important. If you could refresh me?”

Ross sighed.

“The girl you captured a couple days ago. She is with Hydra and it is vital that you get as much information about her as you can. Though Hydra might not be as prominent as before when they infiltrated S.H.I.E.L.D., they still have means of causing chaos and destruction,”

“Our best interrogator talked to her today. Apparently she only said three sentences,” Tony sighed, dragging his hand down his face. He would have more grey hairs by the end of this week, he was sure of it.

“Well obviously he didn’t use the right tactics.” 

“The interrogator was a she. She did great. The girl obviously had some training when it comes to dealing with interrogation,”

“I don’t care if the girl had training! I need information about her!” Ross’ voice rose in volume to the point where Tony had to pull the phone away from his ear. 

“Well, I can’t really control that,”

“Do you think I care, Stark? I need information and you have the source,”

“I don’t think she’ll just hand the information to us. The girl obviously has genius level intellect, whether natural or otherwise. She made blueprints for nanotech that most scientists couldn’t dream of. I have talked to her-”

“I couldn’t care if she was the most retarded person in your building Stark. Do I need to tell you why?”

“Is it maybe because you want information?” Tony could hear Ross scoff over the line.

“You never fail to amaze me Mr. Stark,” 

“Please, Mr. Stark was my father,”

“Sometimes I wish I was dealing with him instead of you,” Ross said slowly, “I could take the girl to court and see how she fares. For all we know, she could be a murderer or an assassin,”

“She murdered one of my employees,” Tony said, no emotion in his voice, “Who turned out to be a former Hydra employee,”

“More against both her and you. How did you end up hiring a former Hydra employee?”

“So you see, I didn’t personally hire her. The background check only goes to a certain extent so I had to dig to get her full file,”

“Sounds like you’re slacking. What if I just seized the girl and used other methods to get information out of her? She  _ is _ a minor with no legal guardianship, no connections, nothing.”

“Exactly. She’s a child. If she can be rehabilitated in a safe environment, she can become a citizen. She has her whole life ahead of her.”

“And how do you know she won’t go running back to Hydra?’

“I don’t, but I would be willing to risk it.”

Ross sighed.

“Of course you would. But let me tell you something; I’m not. If you don’t have any usable information in three weeks, I will come and collect her. She’ll be out of your hands. Understood,”

“Understood,” Tony said grudgingly. The situation truly  _ was _ out of his hands. 

“And don’t think this affects the way the Accords will be amended. This has nothing to do with that”

“That’s funny, I was under the impression that this had everything to do with the Accords. I mean, enhanced individuals unregistered by the government, doing things the government had no control over? Sounds like it would involve the Accords to me. Or your apparent hate for enhanced individuals,”

Tony could almost see Ross’ face turning red on the other end of the phone. He smiled slightly at the thought. 

“Banner was a threat-”

“So you hunted him like an animal,” Tony spat. 

“I did,”

The conversation fell silent, but the tension was thick.

“You know what I want. This conversation is finished,” Ross hung up. 

Tony sighed and slumped back in his chair, the line buzzing in his ear. That conversation was about as stressful as it could have been, but it didn’t make it any easier to deal with. Tony didn’t like being told in advance that a child was getting tortured for information whether he liked it or not. He didn’t think anyone would like to hear that news. 

All he could do now was hope the girl from Hydra saw sense.

~~~

Thankfully, the cameras could not see my actions. 

I had blocked their vision to try to find any wires or spare metal that wouldn’t be missed. It was at times like this that I wished I could also detect metal. 

All of a sudden, it felt as if I had been punched in the temple, but the feeling was gone as quickly as it came. Though it was quick, I was still left bent over and panting at the phantom pain. 

That was strange. I couldn’t dwell on it though. I didn’t have the time or the energy. My head did continue to ache after that however.

I had to put up the blocks on the cameras, projecting me sitting at the desk and redoing the blueprints I had written up a couple of days ago. I would have to do that if I got the chance. 

I stalked around the room, looking for any place that could have spare wires or metal. The bathroom probably wouldn’t have anything, but I checked anyway.

I checked the showerhead, which wasn’t the best idea, but I had to check anyway. I gently pulled at the mirror, seeing if I could displace it enough to see if there were any wires under it. I didn’t find any wires, but there was a hidden cabinet behind the mirror. There were two boxes inside it, but I didn’t spare them a glance. If I didn’t know what they were, I didn’t need them. The lights were necessary and I couldn’t displace anything with them without it going unnoticed, so I let them be. 

The hamper also didn’t hold much. I dug under this weeks’ clothes, but the sides were smooth and unyielding. I made my way over to the main section of my cell. The blanket and paper cabinets were the same as the hamper, smooth sides and nothing to hide. I huffed in frustration. I wasn’t getting very far with this search.

The pencil they had given me couldn’t be used for anything? Could it?

I sighed and shook my head. Of course it couldn’t be used in anything unless I had the proper materials, which I didn’t. 

I rolled under the cot. The Stark Industries panel didn’t have anything? Did it? I started to pry at the sides of the panel, but it seemed to have nothing behind it. I even tried to get air up and under it, but it wouldn’t go through. There was simply no opening. I punched the panel, anger finally shining through, but flinched back when my knuckles started to bleed. I groaned and stuck my bleeding hand in my mouth in order to stop the bleeding faster. They would be okay in a few minutes, but I just hoped no one noticed. 

I lay under my cot until my knuckles were mostly healed, about thirty minutes, wallowing in my failure to find anything I could use to make my escape. I wouldn’t have been surprised if I was given an impossible mission, just for them to spite me. How was I supposed to collect any information if I couldn’t even get out of this stupid cell?

I rolled out and walked over to the desk, picking up the pencil.

It couldn’t hurt to redraw my original plans and make them better. Could it? I could help Hydra, even if I couldn’t complete this mission. 

I started drawing, a little more sane and less delirious now, so they were a little clearer. No more blowing up or imploding, unless I wanted them to. I could integrate these particles into my weapons as soon as I got back to Hydra. More storage space could let me carry more weapons and let me do specialized missions.

That was, if I was even permitted to do missions for Hydra anymore. I wouldn’t be surprised if they refused to let me do anything. 

But with these plans, and hopefully more by the time I get back, they should be happy enough to let me run more missions and get by with only a punishment. 

Maybe I really was delirious. Did I really think I could get by being captured by just making up some technology I would have created at some point anyway. I really was stupid. 

I sighed. I should still finish the plans, no matter how it would affect me in the long run. I could never be too sure what they would do with me. The moment I thought I knew what was going on, it seemed all of Hydra decided it was time to switch and do something else. 

The only one thing I was left wondering about as I completely rewrote my plans that wouldn’t implode if used was what had happened to the original plans. 

Who had wanted them so badly to steal them out of my cell while they were still incomplete and could kill them? Who would be desperate enough? Hydra? Stark Industries? Another Organization? Or was it simply a curious and mildly dense person? 

I simply sighed and continued to draw my plans from memory. That, I could worry and figure out another day. 


	10. Chapter Eight

With the flaws in the nanotech design now obvious, I could adjust the formulas and hopefully not cause any implosions or have the particles deteriorate after frequent use. That would not be good for Hydra in any way, shape, or form. If the original particle design were to be made into a gun, the explosion and fire of the gunpowder would ignite a reaction, which had a 99% chance of killing whoever held the gun, so to redesign had to be better.

I had just finished up writing down the last equation when the intercom came on and Tony Stark’s voice filled the room. 

“Hello again,”

“What do you want?” I groaned as I stood up. This was the second time I talked to him in three days, and honestly I wasn’t fond of his voice. Or, at least I wasn’t fond of the reasons he wanted to talk to me. 

“I wanted to talk to you, and obviously you don’t like that idea, so I’ll try to make it short,” I rolled my eyes at no one in particular. 

“You didn’t talk yesterday, during the little interrogation we held for you,” he started out.

“Ms. Wilkinson wasn’t very good. I’ve had worse in training,” 

“Well, she was the best we have, so she wasn’t bad for lack of trying,” The man sighed, “What she said about the government was true. They  _ will _ take you away if you don’t give us any information. Any at all that can be used. I had a man call me yesterday that was quite insistent about it, in fact.”

I wouldn’t betray Hydra. I couldn’t. I would be punished for it, possibly even killed. I was loyal. I wouldn’t give anything away, no matter what Mr. Stark said. 

Mr. Stark sighed. I heard faint footsteps echo through the intercom.

“You flinched up when Ms. Wilkinson mentioned family inside Hydra. You had or have family inside Hydra didn’t you?”

Out of the blue, a headache flared at my temples, so painful it caused me to collapse on the floor. I opened my eyes to dizzy vision and a frozen memory, a scuffle, dancing in front of my eyes. A fight on a mat? Why was that relevant? And why was my head aching for it. 

“I don’t even know these things about myself! Why are you asking  _ me _ ?” I gasped. I tried to keep anger in my voice, but I think it was drowned out by pain instead. 

“Are you okay?” Mr. Stark’s voice was suddenly soft. Disgusting. 

“Fine,” I pushed myself up off the floor with some difficulty, but stood up unassisted. My head spun as I stood up, but I tried not to show it. The pain in my head was thankfully slowly dissipating into a dull ache. 

Mr. Stark was silent for a few moments, so long that I thought he left, and was thoroughly disappointed when he spoke again. 

“About the nanotech plans you were drawing up,” he said. 

“Well, you would know all about them, wouldn’t you?” Mr. Stark was quiet for a moment, and I thought I had caught the right person before he burst out laughing.

My face twisted up in confusion. Why was he laughing? And why was he laughing like it was the funniest thing he had heard ever?

As soon as he finished, he said;

“Why would you think I stole your plans? I already have that tech in the works, patent pending in fact. I wouldn’t need to steal your faulty plans if I already had the tech, would I?”

“So… you didn’t steal my plans?” I asked. He was right; if he already had the tech, why would he need my plans? “How do I know you aren’t lying?” 

“There’s no reason I would be lying. I can create the tech on my own, without a teenager. And as I said, I have my own plans and tech on that already. I don’t need to steal your plans.” 

He was right. Why would he be lying? I read a file on him, or really glanced through it quickly. A genius, world-renowned engineer. He could easily invent all of this technology by himself, and with all the advances he had made in the past, it would happen eventually for him to make some nanotech or something similar and possibly more advanced. 

“Okay,” I said, “So you didn’t take my plans,”

“Yes, that was covered somewhere,”

“But if you didn’t take them, who did?” Probably Hydra, but how would they get in my cell without me noticing? I knew for a fact they had already infiltrated this place, but enough to get my plans undetected? And at that, faulty plans?

“Probably your buddies at Hydra,” Mr. Stark commented, but his voice was quiet, almost like he was deep in thought, “Which means they could have gotten in here. Why did you kill Zoe Howes?” 

“She was a deserter,” I growled, deeming it acceptable to be said, “The lowest form of betrayal,” 

“And is there a possibility that many other people from Hydra, not deserters, could have posed as my staff?” 

I chose to stay silent. I knew for a fact that Hydra was inside Stark Industries. Maybe Stark didn’t know it now, but I couldn’t be involved in giving him any extra information. 

“Thanks, kid. I have to get going,” After a few moments, I didn’t think he was coming back. I walked over and sat on my cot. Although my headache had receded, the phantom pain and emptiness of memory remained. 

Stark’s voice echoed throughout the room once more, causing me to jump.

“For what it’s worth, kid, you really are smart. A genius even. Your design was very complex, even if it is patented already. Not many people, let alone a teenager, can do that. I wouldn't have expected it from you. Just let us help you and you could end up doing the right thing. Please,”

When I didn’t answer, he spoke again.

“It’s called a compliment. G’night,”

I stood there for a second, partially in shock. I repeated the words he said over and over, trying to find fault in them. 

He was wrong. Wrong about it all. I wasn’t a genius, I wasn’t even smart! I couldn’t remember much about my life, but I remembered enough. My mistakes, the punishments. The insults echoed in my ears, telling me I was stupid, and idiot, the only reason I was alive was because of the mercy of someone I never met and the mercy of everyone who had ever met me. I was the dirt of the earth, trampled underfoot. Nothing but a speck of dust in this world. “You are dust, and to dust you shall return”, that was me. I had fulfilled every purpose of myself and I was nothing.

No one could change that. Not Tony Stark, no one. I wasn’t smart, I wasn’t a genius, I wasn’t anything. I was nothing. His so-called “compliment” had been in vain. 

But I could get out of here. That I could definitely do. 

I projected an image onto the cameras and set to work, ignoring the fog in my vision. The first thing I set off to do was recopy the plans for the nanotech, except this time, slightly implosive. A direct weapon instead of storage for a weapon. I had to hope that the woman watching the cameras wasn’t completely, well, hopeless, and get it to someone that could realize its potential and use it to its purpose. Otherwise, it would be a mistake, and the mistake would be on me. 

I stuck the “correct” plans in my sports bra. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust them, but right now I couldn’t afford to trust anyone. I couldn’t even trust myself, what with my head messing things up left and right. I wished the ache would go away. 

Once that was finished, I decided it was time to practice my powers. It had been a while, I estimated at least a week of formal practice was missed(not containing missions or sneaking around my cell). I wasn’t allowed to practice my powers a lot, usually having a large inhibitor strapped to my head for the majority of training. The inhibitor was large and painful to wear; it made my head feel like it was shrinking in on itself, but some days were so bad I could barely see straight. 

Needless to say, I would have liked training if I didn’t have to wear that inhibitor all the time. Although, every once and a while I was allowed to practice my powers with a formal practice session. Those were my favorite days, not that I was allowed to have favorite days. Everyday of training was a gift and a privilege. 

I started with my usual exercises: lifting different numbers of objects at the same time, lifting objects of different sizes, that sort of stuff. The metal panel on my neck twitched with electricity, but not enough to be painful. Just slightly annoying. It must be a left over reaction. It was just something else I would have to get used to until I got back to Hydra.

Soon I grew bored of simple exercises, so I started changing some wavelengths to make objects invisible and changing others to make sounds. Humming and vague tunes I had heard in passing soon filled the air along with neon colors and visions I had seen in the past that I didn’t know I had seen before. I ignored my headache and twitching electricity as I watched in awe as white flakes like ash fell in a vision I had made. I turned myself invisible, changed the pitch of my voice, and put on different disguises.

With each trick, I quickly grew tired and out of breath as though I had actually been doing physical exercise. White fog clouded my vision, but for once it was a good feeling. For the first time in a long time, I felt free and light. The feeling didn’t last for long, but it was nice, warm almost. 

Of course, I would have to move on. I had to figure out how to escape from this seemingly inescapable cells, get the information I needed to complete my mission, and get back to Hydra. I had, as far as I knew, unlimited time as of now, but it could take upwards of three or four weeks to find everything I needed. 

If all else failed, I could just break the two-way mirror (that was apparently vibranium infused) and make my escape. I was guessing no other person imprisoned here had the same skill set I did, so I would most likely be the first to break out that way. Catch them by surprise and keep them on their toes. 

I just hoped I could accomplish it. I needed to do this right. I had already messed up so bad, and I couldn’t let anything, not Tony Stark, not rogue memories, not an inescapable cell, nothing, stand in my way of completing my mission. 

The only way anyone could stop me from completing my mission was to kill me.

I sat back down on my cot. I was a ghost, or if I wasn’t one already, I would become one. If there was one thing I knew, you couldn’t kill a ghost. 


	11. Chapter Nine

Day was light. The lights were on: they were so strong that I could barely open my eyes for my first thirty waking minutes and couldn’t ever look up to them. The light penetrated every corner and made the white walls hard to look at. The mirror reflected light on the opposite wall and I couldn’t look into it unless it was at an angle. 

Dark was night. The lights were shut off suddenly and my eyes never adjusted to the darkness. It was dark as pitch and I was thankful nothing in my room moved unless I touched it and I wasn’t afraid of the dark. It was almost suffocating, the way the darkness coated the room. 

Food came three times a day. The first meal arrived before the lights were turned on, and usually consisted of oatmeal, but hot. There was also usually a glass of white liquid, but I never drank that. Second meal came around the middle of the day and consisted of a sandwich (or that was what Mark said it was called, when he came back a few days later), a round red (“Apple,” Mark stressed, “It’s called an apple,” but I ignored that), and a glass of water. The third meal came near the end of the day, probably an hour before the lights shut off. The third meal was also a sandwich, or sometimes some meat. There was always corn, though, so that was good. I had deemed corn a safe food, which probably wasn’t a good idea, but it was really good. A glass of water and some green food also came with the meal. 

After the three meals, lights went out after about an hour and I was plunged into darkness once more. 

I had no concept of time except for those events. 

This schedule wouldn’t be awful, except for the fact that my head was constantly pounding at all hours. It burned when the lights turned on, and was another reason I could barely see; my vision went blurry with pain. The headache eased slightly when the lights turned off, but my sleep was haunted by memories; memories I had lost to the hands of Hydra. 

I didn’t know what to think about my taken memories. I didn’t remember most of them come “morning”, but they scared me in my sleep. I only saw flashes, but my body reacted violently. Sometimes I would have to stumble blindly to the bathroom, vomiting up what little food I had eaten during the day, for reasons I couldn’t remember. 

I hated it and I don’t hate many things. I wasn’t allowed to feel passionately for anything, lest it get in the way of Hydra’s greater good. This was definitely getting in the way of Hydra’s greater good. 

But for now, I was lost in thought, contemplating why I was stuck here and how I would get out. I stared down at a blank sheet of paper that I pulled out after I finished my third meal and never bothered to write on. 

I flinched as the lights turned off at the end of “day” and I was plunged into darkness. I walked blindly to my cot from the desk and laid down, clutching the folded blanket to my chest. I tried closing my eyes, hoping to sleep so my headache would ease off. Then again, I hoped that I wouldn’t be able to sleep at the same time, terrified of the dreams that would accompany me in the night. 

Luckily, sleep could wait for a few more minutes. The intercom announced it’s arrival with a wave of static that made the pain in my head more pronounced than before. 

“ _ Mission status. _ ” said the same woman who instructed my mission days ago.

I stood up and snapped into my standard posture, despite the dark and the fact that she probably would not be able to see me. 

“ _ Mission incomplete. Tools required to complete the mission are missing, and powers are insufficient _ ,” I spoke. 

“ _ You have two weeks to complete your mission. Failure will result in harsh punishment. Hail Hydra _ .” 

And with that, without giving me the chance to even respond, the intercom gave one last round of static and shut off, hopefully for the night. 

I sank back down on my cot in a trance. How could I be expected to complete my mission if I had no materials to use? There was nothing inside this room and the abuse to my fingers proved it. 

And besides, even if I had the materials, this mission could take upwards of a month to complete between building the things I needed, hiding them, making sure whatever I made actually worked, and fixing them if they didn’t. Two weeks wasn’t a long time, and the fact that I needed to both collect materials and build the items I needed, (probably a laser and definitely a large storage flash drive) in a two week span. Not to mention the problems that would come up and the times I could work. I couldn’t just generate light at night. 

I lay on my cot, trying to control my breathing and the beating of my heart. I just had to think through this, and then I would see a way to get out of this situation. I just had to use my head. Which was hard, considering that it liked to throb with every beat of my heart. 

Eventually, after coming up with no ideas on how to get out any sooner while still getting the information required, I allowed myself to sink into a restless sleep.

I had the feeling this dream, memory, or whatever it was, would stick with me this time. 

I was in my room at Hydra again, except it looked a little more full. At least three of the cots were taken and their corresponding bedside tables had small items on them; a paper sketch of a gun, a couple spoons, a hair brush, among other things. I could hear the shower in the background, but my focus was two girls seated on my cot at the end of the room. 

One of them was me, younger than I was in the last memory I completely remembered. The other looked almost exactly like the younger me: darker skin, curly hair that was coarse but tame, thin built, and short from what I saw, but she wasn’t the person I saw in the mirror. She was just  _ wrong _ . She wasn’t me. 

The girls sat across from each other on the cot with twin needles in twin hands, carefully stitching wounds on the other’s body. The younger me stitched a cut on the other girl’s arm while she fixed up a wound on my leg. The scene was almost sweet.

Suddenly, younger me spoke in the tongue I didn’t know but understood.

“ _ I don’t get it Kae. How did you plan to outsmart Agent Durus? He sees everything! And in front of the Doctor too! _ ” my voice was panicked, almost terrified. It didn’t sound good in my young, high, voice. 

“ _ It’s not right that we do what they want all the time. We should be able to do what we want to! They may control us, but they can’t deprive us, _ ” my stomach turned as she, Kae (a spark in my subconscious said Kendra) spoke. She was wrong, she was so wrong.

“ _But that’s wrong! You will get punished if they hear you saying that! You could get killed,_ ” My younger self’s voice was angry and annoyed and scared, I understood her. Who was this Kae, this Kendra, to think that she could just disobey our superiors?

“ _ Corentine, _ ” Kendra said softly. My headache grew. 

“ _ You know I hate my name, _ ” my younger self growled. 

Kendra grabbed my younger self’s face, and pulled it in close to her’s, touching foreheads.

“ _ It’s why I used it. You have to understand Tina. They are using you. They are using all of us. YOU HAVE TO REMEMBER!”  _

“Remember what?” I said at the same time as my younger self. I was reeling, feeling as if I wasn’t there.

I wasn’t; this was only a dream. 

“ _ Everything. You have to remember it all, _ ” Kendra whispered. 

All of a sudden moments flashed before my eyes, remnants of times I didn’t remember. 

Five children, the same age. 

Two of them were sparring on the training room floor while I watched from the sidelines. Kendra and the boy. Water exploded through the sprinkler system above the mat and formed into a water ball which caught the boy it it’s grasp. I saw moments of fire, water, and earth rising from the ground in the training room. The scene changed.

I felt the cold nights in the room, just as I remembered from when I was on my own. Four children lay on the same cot, sleeping peacefully, limbs tangled together. I saw that my younger self, years younger (my head said five years), was stuck in the middle of the huddle, the smallest out of all the children on the cot. 

I saw the smile of a baby, but only for a moment. It was pure and lovely, but I only saw the girl who gave the smile once or twice. Tarin. Tara. That was her name. A small fire sparked in her hand, but the memory switched before I could watch her extinguish it. 

I saw my young fingers clumsily braiding course black hair. My ears didn’t hear the encouragement, but I felt it. I felt warm. The girl whose hair I was braiding turned around and gave a bright smile at me. Her mouth moved but I couldn’t hear the words, I felt myself smile. Her name was… I didn’t quite remember. Ada? Adara? Before I could be quite sure, the memory changed again. 

I saw three girls and a boy sitting on the floor of my room. They were young, younger than the sleeping huddle memory and speaking in a broken version of the language they were speaking before. 

The boy appeared before my eyes. The two of us huddled together on a single cot, stitching each other’s wounds when we got hurt. Maxim, M. 

I watched as the memories floated about an empty space in my head, in awe. Was this me? Was this real? 

“ _ Tina, _ ” Kendra’s voice spoke, and all of a sudden I was back to the peaceful scene, watching the girls talk, sitting on the cot. I felt warm and safe, a foreign feeling. However, Kendra was looking into my eyes, staring into my soul. “ _ Tina, you have to remember. Please. You know what comes next, _ ”

I know what comes next?

Do I though? I didn’t remember anything. 

My headache returned, stabbing and blinding. Before I woke up, I saw Agent Durus at the door, becconning us to come with him.

_ You know what comes next. _

I woke up in a cold sweat, gasping for breath, one hand clutching my head and the other in tight-fisted grip around the front of my shirt. I could feel the nanotech plans down the front of my shirt. My lungs felt like they had fallen in on themselves, collapsing, constricting. I couldn’t get a breath in while my name,  _ my name,  _ was repeating in my head. 

_ What was happening?  _ What was this?

I sobbed, pulling the front of my t-shirt up to cover my mouth and wipe my tears so no one would hear. 

Were those memories even real? Or were they a figment of my imagination? Those people, the children; I remembered their names so vividly. I couldn’t have made them up. They were real. Were they real?

Was this my life? I remembered none of it. This was the most I remembered in all my life. I wasn’t alone.

I tried to stand, but my head spun and I collapsed on the floor with a loud thump. I rolled onto my back, staring up into the darkness. 

What was this? Why was I remembering all this now?

What had I not been exposed to recently that I had before? It had been two weeks, what was so different?

The air, the facility, the people. None of that could have mattered. Something specific to me and me alone. Something that only I did. 

I fingered the metal plate on the nape of my neck. It was cold to the touch, but I didn’t think that they could send signals other than when it sparked when I used my powers. That was out. I must have been underground for Doctor Galley’s signal to reach me anyway if they had to verbally give me instructions. 

What had I not been doing? What was different? What was different?

I tried standing up again, and managed to stumble blindly to the bathroom sink. I turned on the tap and scooped water into my hands. The liquid hit my dry throat and I almost sighed in relief. 

The water. I hadn’t been drinking the water. I hadn’t been eating the food. Only the corn and maybe some of the fruit. 

_ I hadn’t been eating the food. _

I gave a dry chuckle, but quickly stopped from the pain to my head. I had been scared of the food here, thinking it was drugged, when all along the food from Hydra was probably drugged to keep me from remembering. Bastards. 

What was happening to me? What was I thinking? 

Everything that had been done to me had been for my own good. The experiments, the training, the food, the chair. 

The Chair. 

I held back a gasp. The Chair. If anyone knew that I had remembered anything, they would put me in the Chair. 

I clutched my head as a small wave of half formed memories tormented me. Screaming and pain. My stomach twisted at the thought of having to do that all over again. 

But if I get back, no  _ when  _ I get back to Hydra, I can start eating the food again. I can act normal. I can be good. I will follow orders and walk to the end of the Earth for Hydra’s wishes. They won’t have to wipe me. I’ll forget all on my own.

A strange feeling rose in my stomach at the thought of forgetting the memories I had just gained. I didn’t know what it was called, but I didn’t like it. I didn’t like it at all. I was supposed to be the best Hydra had after the Winter Soldier; a well oiled weapon of destruction. Warm feelings had no place in that legacy. I would not be lulled by the memories of days past. They had no effect on me now. 

I was going insane. I wasn’t thinking clearly.

I have to get back. This wasn’t how my story was supposed to go. I was supposed to end people’s stories, not let mine start. This wasn’t in my programming, this wasn’t right.

_ I have to get back. _


	12. Chapter Ten

There was no doubt about it, Hydra was inside Stark Industries. 

Tony ran a hand down his face, trying to see everything in a different light. Under the cover of darkness perhaps, because the sun had long been set. The soft blue glow of Tony’s screens was the only light source in the lab. Tony’s cup of coffee was cold, but he still took a sip, trying to figure out how to find the right evidence to convict whoever was infiltrating his company.

In hindsight, someone probably should have noticed a few inconsistencies earlier. Now that Tony looked at any idiot could have found it if that idiot looked hared enough. Moments where cameras were shut off in strange places, holes in data that were present before, things like that. 

Between all of these events, he hadn’t been secure since early 2015, less than a year after S.H.I.E.L.D. went mostly underground. Maybe it hadn’t been Hydra all the time, possibly some other organization that was similar. There were probably times where it was just a mistake that never got fixed. But with the consistencies, at least once or twice a week in this building alone for the past few weeks? That was far too much for mistakes.

Tony just had to find a way for someone to view it that way from an outsider's point of view, that way he wouldn’t be dragged to court for imprisoning an innocent person. There was just so much data to cover, and a finite amount of time. These events were somehow all interconnected, but finding a way to show that would be harder than him seeing it. 

Tony stared up at the video footage Friday had brought up, trying to catch every little thing that crossed the cameras. 

Tony sighed and dropped his head onto the desk. Why couldn’t he think?

“Friday?”

“Yes Boss?” the AI answered.

“Pull up the employees that were consistently in the control room when the cameras went out,” Tony said, taking another swig of the cold coffee.

A few seconds of filtering later, Friday had pulled up about a dozen faces of employees. 

“Can you bring up the numbers of their presence during the camera blackouts. And group together the ones that were working together during the blackouts,” Friday did as he asked. There was an average of two dozen black outs between three people, the others present when a few blackouts happened.

Tony stared at the faces for a few minutes. There wasn’t enough data to convict anyone; the data was merely more than coincidence right now.

The door of the lab opened, throwing a yellow light into the dark room. Light footsteps walked up behind Tony. Pepper put her hands on Tony’s shoulders and squeezed slightly, glancing up at the faces on Tony’s screen. 

“Saving the world again?” she said, laughing softly. 

“Saving Stark Industries a lot of trouble. I talked to that kid downstairs the other day. Someone stole her plans for some nanotechnology and she thought I took them. I think we’ve been infiltrated by something, probably Hydra,”

“They’ve been underground for a while,” Pepper said. 

“Yeah, they have. But here’s the thing,” Tony stood up and touched the screen, pushing it back to all the footage put on a timeline with each year on it’s own line. 

“These blackouts started in early 2015, a little less than a year after S.H.I.E.L.D. and Hydra officially went down. Of course, they are both still up and running unofficially, but that doesn’t matter as much. They were sporadic enough for no one to notice, or if anyone did notice, they wrote it off as a mistake. They became a little more consistent middle of last year, especially around the cells downstairs. By June though, they calmed down. In those two years, there were only around two dozen ‘blackouts’,” Tony glanced back at Pepper, who was watching the footage in earnest. When Tony fell silent, she looked back down at him and motioned for him to continue.

“In the two weeks, from the 3rd to the 17th, there have been 20 cameras to blackout in strategic locations. Seven cameras on the BioMed floor were blacked out for about five minutes when the girl downstairs broke in and killed Zoe Howes, and if it wasn’t for Friday she probably would have gotten away. The cameras in the girl’s room have shut off three times in the past two weeks, as well as cameras in the control room and in other prisioner’s cells,”

Pepper was still looking up at the screens. 

“Can you bring back the screen with the different people? What was that about?” Friday pulled up that screen. 

“Those are the people that were in the control room while the blackouts happened. I have a hunch that one of these three caused it, or possibly all of them at different points in time. I just don’t have enough evidence to prove that any of them actually did anything,”

Pepper looked over at Tony. He marvelled at how beautiful she looked in the low light. Her hair was up, she didn’t have any makeup on, and she was cocooned in a large sweatshirt and sweatpants, but she still took his breath away. 

She must have noticed the look in his eyes.

“I thought we were trying to solve something,” she said, laughing.

“I was.  _ You  _ were distracting me,” Tony said. 

“Oh, so it’s me now?” 

“Yes,” Tony walked up to her and wrapped his arms around her, kissing her cheek before gently pecking her lips. 

They stood there for a few minutes, their arms wrapped tightly around the other, before Pepper asked a question.

“Does the intercom system have a record?”

Tony was silent for a moment.

“I completely forgot I added that,” he whispered before kissing Pepper hastily, and rushing to his desk, “You are a lifesaver. A lifesaver,”

“I’m a lifesaver. Good to know,” she replied, “That all?” 

“The best person, love of my life, most amazing CEO, woman who puts up with all my bullsh-” 

“I think that’s good,” she said, stopping him, “Get some sleep sometime tonight, okay?”

“Can’t make any promises,” Tony said, turning back to her. Pepper walked over and caught him in a soft kiss.

“Try. Goodnight Tony,” she said before walking out of the lab. Tony watched as she went before turning back to the screens. 

“Okay, Friday, pull up the intercom record for cell 02. Play the files that took place during the camera blackouts. 

“Log from camera blackout November 5, 2016, 21:08, translated from Russian,” Friday spoke before letting the record play in its original language. Subtitles ran along the bottom of the screen so Tony could understand what was being said. Tony hoped Friday had translated all of this correctly, otherwise it might get very awkward if Tony had the woman arrested for speaking in Russian. He had a lot on his plate right now; he didn’t need anymore backlash or a court case. 

“ _ Storm, _ ” the woman’s accent was unlike any Russian accent Tony had ever heard before. In the background Tony could hear the ruffling of material, probably the girl standing up. The woman continued, “ _ Mission: Download all files from the Stark Research and Development department and any files related to the Avengers Initiative and its members. Hail Hydra, _ ”

“End log,” Friday spoke, causing Tony to jump slightly at her suddenness, “Log from camera blackout November 17, 2016, 21:02, translated from Russian.”

Again, the log played in Russian, and subtitles still ran along the bottom of the screen. 

“ _ Mission status,”  _ the same woman from the last log said. 

“ _ Mission incomplete. Tools required to complete the mission are missing, and powers are insufficient, _ ” that was the girl. Her Russian sounded so clipped and yet natural and comfortable. She sounded like an adult, mature. Tony didn’t doubt that she was mature in many ways.

“ _ You have two weeks to complete your mission. Failure will result in harsh punishment. Hail Hydra,”  _

“End log,” Friday said.

Tony sat silently for a minute before requesting for Friday to replay the logs.

“Friday, could you be a dear and pull up the file on that woman?” Friday pulled up the file on the woman.

“Anya Yakovlev,” Tony read out loud, pronouncing the name slowly. The woman looked young, no older than her mid thirties, with dark eyes and long hair to match. There was no doubt she was beautiful, but her mouth was fixed in a perpetual frown and her eyes lacked a shine.  _ Though,  _ Tony thought,  _ it may just be the picture. _

“Employee for six months,” Tony read, “Pull up everything on her Friday; sick days, coming in late, hours. I want to see everything on this woman,” Tony pushed his chair back and watched as the screens filled with everything that was on record for the woman. Birthplace, past jobs, and everything in between. 

“Any holes in her story Friday? To make it a little more clear for everyone?” Tony asked the AI. 

“Her jobs rarely continued over a year. Between jobs, a process that lasted an average of six months, she disappeared, before appearing again in another part of the world. She does shifts at times not on her schedule, insisting she take over for the person before her an hour before his shift usually lets off,”

“Most would just say she was travelling, and the shifts are definitely strange,” Tony muttered to himself before saying, “Okay, Friday. Could you do me a favor and tell security to keep an eye on a certain Anya Yakovlev for a couple of days. Actually, any of the suspect three. See if they can catch anything else out of the ordinary,”

“Of course Boss. Anonymous tip?” 

“Of course not,” Tony said with a worn laugh, “You handle that, and notify me if the cameras go out again. I’m actually keeping a promise for once and heading to bed. G’Night Fri,”

“Goodnight Boss,”

Tony walked through the darkness to his and Pepper’s room. He opened the door to find Pepper sleeping peacefully in the bed. As quietly as he could, he put on some pajama pants, washed his face, and brushed his teeth, before sliding in bed. 

Pepper shifted over to him, burying her face in his chest, wrapping her arms around his torso. 

“I knew you’d be back,” she said, her voice heavy with sleep. 

“Yeah, Pep,” Tony whispered fondly, “Goodnight,” 

“‘Night,” she said, before her breath evened out once more and she sank into sleep. 

Tony smiled and closed his eyes. For the first time since the whole “Civil War” deal, he wasn’t paranoid or terrified of letting this moment go. He was perfectly content. 

Unfortunately, the content feeling Tony had didn’t last very long. 

Over the next few days, security kept an eye on Ms. Yakovlev, reporting to Tony whenever she was late to leave, took over a shift early, even when she left to go to the restroom, which Tony definitely didn’t need to know. 

However, after about two days of Ms. Yakovlev being under constant watch while at work, Security caught her trying to give the girl another message. Of course, she didn’t get very far. As soon as the cameras flickered, Tony was notified by Friday. He then told security, who burst in on the woman before she could even speak a word into the intercom. 

They held an interrogation the next day, which Tony didn’t bother to attend, although it would have been slightly more interesting that the meeting Pepper insisted he attend. From what Tony saw when he asked Friday to pull up the footage after the fact, Anya Yakovlev didn’t seem to have great training when it came to avoiding questioning. Either that, or she wanted the information to be out there, but considering the way she had avoided giving information, Tony doubted she wanted the information to be known. 

“Who do you work for?” Mrs. Wilkinson asked. Yakovlev turned redder by the second, and her cheeks started puffing out strangely, as if she was holding her breath to keep the information inside. The holding-of-breath method didn’t work, unsurprisingly.

“Hydra,” the woman said in her strange accent.

“And why were you positioned here Ms. Yakovlev?” 

“To give information and missions to the Asset,” Ms. Yakovlev said after a few seconds of breath holding. 

“And who is this Asset?” 

“That’s classified,”

There wasn’t much information given that was vital besides that. Though Ms. Yakovlev said that the identity of “the Asset” was classified, it didn’t even take an intelligent guess to know who it was. It was the girl from Hydra. Tony refused to call her by her letters and number. 

Tony was in his office the next day when Ross called. He pushed aside all his paperwork before answering the phone. 

“Ross. To what do I owe the pleasure?” Tony said dryly.

“The arrest. What was that about?” the older man asked, actually sounding curious instead of ordering Tony around. For a second, Tony could almost pretend he liked talking to Ross. Fortunately, that moment soon ended when Ross spoke again.

“I don’t like to be kept waiting Stark,”

“That was the arrest of a Hydra employee inside my company feeding information to Hydra’s so called “Asset”. Obviously the girl from Hydra,”

“And have you made any progress with the information?”

“Her mission was, or is, to break out of her cell and get her hands on all the information in the Research and Development department, along with information on the Avengers Initiative. Not that she would get very far. I have people stationed at her door 24/7. I do think that we could get some more out of her if we let this one person talk to her. Mark, I think his name is. He watches her cell cameras and I think she trusts him quite a bit.”

“You said she was smart, correct?” Ross said, out of the blue. Tony took a second before responding.

“Yes. A genius if the blueprints she has drawn are anything to go by,”

“Why don’t you go in there, bring some spare parts or whatever you engineers build with and try to talk to her,” Tony tried to put his word in, but Ross interrupted him before he could form a full word.

“Listen, I know it’s a safety risk, but you’re Iron Man. Surely you could protect yourself.”

“It’s not that easy. If I were to be 100% safe, I would have to bring a suit with me in there, and in the best case scenario she would just not talk to me. She could attack on sight, for all I know. We don’t know how violent she could get if she got angry. She also hasn’t had direct human contact in over two weeks. You should stop putting in your say if all your ideas are this bad, honestly,”

The other side of the line was silent for a few moments, except for the breathing of the other man on the other end. 

“At this point, I could still get a warrant to take her from your premises, and to the Raft. I would need at least four times the information to let her be with you. I can still take her and you to court if you keep information from me. Keep that in mind, and choose your next words wisely,”

In all honesty, all Tony wanted to do was curse Ross until he was eye level with Tony’s shoes, but that wouldn’t do Tony any good, so he decided to restrain himself. 

“I’ll keep an eye on her,” Tony growled through his teeth. 

“Good,” and with that, Ross hung up. 

Tony put his head in his hands. Between running the R&D department, attending meetings, keeping an eye on both the Spider-Kid and the Freaky-Kid, and dealing with Ross, Tony had a feeling that this week would feel a lot longer than it was. 

At least Monday was out of the way. Tony had the feeling that would be the least of his worries. 

  
  
  



	13. Chapter Eleven

The mission had to be completed in ten days, not including today, and I had made no progress. I had no materials, and though I was regularly practicing with my powers, they wouldn’t be strong enough to do anything huge by the end of the deadline. I was at a loss. Why would Hydra just leave me with a mission, but nothing to complete it with?

Though, with what I had gotten into, being captured and everything, I would almost say this was deserved. I had compromised Hydra and left them to deal with my mess.

But even if I did mess up, it wasn’t like them to give me an impossible mission afterwards. Not to mention that I technically did complete my first mission. And then got caught by amateurs. So I guess it could be understandable. 

A sudden spike in my growing headache stopped me in my tracks. My head had been aching for days on end, and if there wasn’t a word for this kind of headache, I was going to punch something. The pain always seemed to come from a region near my left eyebrow and back to my ears, though it didn’t really matter where the headache came from, it still hurt. I had been throwing up everything I ate (which wasn’t much) because of this headache. I was sick of being in constant agony. 

I closed my eyes and sat on the cot. I had been getting random flashes of memories for the past few days, and they had been more than annoying. They happened whenever; brushing my teeth, in the shower, eating, falling asleep, and the pain from the headache usually caused me to collapse, and in rare occasions, pass out.

Being dug out of my corn by a random person armed with a needle if I decided to attack them wasn’t the highlight of the last week. 

But I had seen a lot of my siblings. I knew for some reason all the kids I saw in “my room” were my siblings. They looked similar to me, and it was nice to see them. I liked those flashbacks, even though I knew I shouldn’t have any particular attachment to them. If Hydra found out after they deliberately made me forget them, then I would get in massive trouble once they found out I had remembered them.

Really, this whole experience would get me in massive trouble. 

I also had flashbacks that weren’t so happy. Unfortunately, these memories seemed to be clearer, more defined, than the soft memories of my siblings. Memories of myself killing people. I couldn't for the life of me remember if they were innocent or not. 

The clearest memory I had was unfortunately the latter. 

_ I was standing above a woman, cold gun in my hand, glinting menacingly in the low light. We appeared to be in a basement alone. The woman had tears running down her cheeks, maskara following the tracks down her face. Her lipstick was smeared across her cheek and she was missing one of her large, hooped earrings. I was hot, and the mask was cutting into my cheekbones hard enough to draw blood.  _

_ The woman was gasping for breath between loud sobs, which was frankly annoying. Her hands were above her head, but they kept on inching down before I pressed the gun harder to her head. It was almost like she was trying to get something from her jacket pocket. I twitched in anticipation to get the job done. _

_ “Please. I’ll do anything,” the woman sobbed, “I have a little girl, a daughter. I don’t know what I’ve done wrong. Please let me go,” she whimpered as I pressed the gun harder to her head.  _

_ I had been stalling long enough. I pulled the trigger, and walked off, leaving the woman’s body for someone else to find. She knew what she had done, she knew what she was and what she had become.  _

Other memories weren’t as clear, but still elicited the same emotions in me. I was torn with what I should feel: guilty and disgusted, or indifferent. 

_ The man stared down at the knife in his stomach, and the blood pooling slowly on the floor. _

_ “Do I have minutes or seconds before you kill me?” The man said, looking me in the eyes through the goggles.  _

_ When I didn’t answer, the man shrugged. _

_ “Might as well get it over with soon,” he said and pulled the knife out. Hot blood spilled on the floor. I waited until the man passed out before I put him out of his misery. _

I didn’t know which was worse. Begging to be spared, or waiting patiently for me to kill them. 

What wasn’t good was that I shouldn't care. I shouldn’t even remember these people. I shouldn't be able to recall how they spent their final moments, and I definitely shouldn't be asking myself which situation I thought was worse. They were deaths, deaths for the betterment of Hydra. 

But I didn’t remember what any of the people I killed did, except for Zoe Howes. 

Zoe Howes. How was I supposed to feel about her death? I knew why she was put to death. I knew. She was a deserter.

Did that make her death worth it? Was it okay to feel nothing about the death of a person? Many people? When you were the person who murdered them?

I shook my head, trying to get all the thoughts out of my head. I was an assassin. The Asset of Hydra. I shouldn’t be questioning whether my actions for Hydra were right or wrong; that was for my superiors to decide. 

My head was agony now. Just thinking about the flashback increased the pain in my head to such an extent that I had to lay on my cot and throw my hands over my eyes to keep the light out. Light just made it all worse. 

I tried to get up to get a drink of water, but I only stumbled in my attempt. I caught myself on my cot before standing up and trying again. I managed to get over to the sink without falling on my second attempt. Even the action of lifting my water to my mouth was agony. I just wanted my headache to stop, but sleep was out of the question for it would only make my headache worse. 

I didn’t remember getting from the sink to the cot, but I ended up laying face down in the pillow for about 30 minutes before a voice woke me out of my stupor. 

“You asleep?” Tony Stark’s voice said from the intercom.

I groaned and raised my head, not opening my eyes.

“Could you be a little quieter?” I whispered. Every word I spoke was a knife stabbing my head repeatedly, except I didn’t die.

Kind of wish I could die, because this was the worst. 

“Sure. Have a hangover?” Mr. Stark said with a laugh. Thankfully, his voice was slightly quieter, but my head still throbbed with every word. 

“I don’t even know what a hangover is, so probably not,” I whispered, my voice sounded awful and raspy. Maybe I had been laying down for longer than I thought. 

“Please tell me you’re not sick,” 

“Not sick. I can’t get sick, not really. But I have this massive headache that hurts like a  Сука,”

“So do I need to come back or are you good to talk?” Honestly this man.

“You wouldn’t come here unless it was something important, right? You’re nodding right now, I can tell. So, yes. Tell me why you're here. I’ll try to get up,”

“You’re talkative,” the man remarked.

“I’m also in pain. Why are you here?” I said, rolling over on my back. I tried to squint, but the light sent me into blinding pain.

“The woman who was talking to you, giving you missions and information, has been arrested. And your missions are cancelled until further notice,”

I groaned inwardly. I had made everything ten times worse. This was no doubt a reaction to me telling him about my stolen plans. 

“And?” I said breathlessly, sitting up on the cot.

“She turned off the cameras while you were asleep, so I didn’t see if anyone nabbed your plans. Sorry about that,”

“I still don’t know why I even trust your word that you or one of your employees didn’t take my plans,”

“Producing weapons can and will get you fired if you work for me. And unless someone took it for an at-home project, which I highly doubt as all the materials they would need are here and I haven’t heard of anything being stolen, no one here stole your plans. I’m the head of R&D and my finance is the CEO. Nothing gets past me,”

I nodded and stumbled to the sink for some water.

“Where are you going?” 

“Water,” I gasped.

“You have a glass of water with lunch,”

“That sounds like the end one. Is it already the end of the day?” I asked before turning around and stumbling to the desk.

“No. It’s the middle one.” Okay, lunch was the middle meal. Good to know if I ever survived this headache without severe brain damage.

I waved my hand over the meal, hoping the man that was undoubtedly behind the mirror would help me.

“And stop,” he said. Thank Hydra. “A little to the left,” I shifted my hand, “And down.” I grasped the glass firmly before bringing it to my mouth. Or trying to. I ended up spilling water all over myself. 

“Can you even open your eyes?” 

“No. I’m so stressed the light  _ hurts _ ,” I said, trying again to bring the glass to my mouth with a bit more success this time, though I still spilled water over myself like I was some child. 

“You really are just a teenager,”

“A what?” 

“A teenager. You’re in your teenage years, or near them. I’m going to introduce you to Peter as soon as you’re out of here,”

“I thought I was going to be in here until I rot,”

“That’s not the plan, but if you want to rot here, there’s nothing stopping you. Which reminds me. The guy who is basically incharge of if you go stay here or not wasn’t as satisfied with the arrest and information the woman gave as I thought he would be, and is still threatening to take you to the Raft,”

I had heard about the Raft, but only in passing. Super secret underwater prison for only the worst of the worst. Or the people the U.S. government hated, which was a lot of people. And I was guessing that here was a lot nicer than there. 

“And what would I need to do to stay out of this Raft?” I asked. I sincerely hoped that it wouldn’t be too drastic. At this rate, I would probably be killed for all the trouble I had caused. 

“Everything you know about Hydra, probably. Superiors, past missions, training techniques,” I sighed, suddenly a bit angry with the man.

“Well those are the things that would get me killed if I told you, so no. I can’t,” I opened my eyes as a natural response, but tears quickly sprang to my eyes as the pain in my head almost caused me to drop the glass of water. 

“Friday? Do you have access to the lights in cell 02?” I heard Mr. Stark ask the air. A few moments later, he said, “Can you turn the lights down 3 notches?”

Suddenly, the light that was filtering through my eyelids wasn’t as bright. I tested opening my eyes. The light wasn’t great, it still felt like knives were stabbing me through the eyes, but it was bearable, even if my vision was still slightly blurry. I blinked a couple of times to try and clear my vision, but it only cleared up slightly. It seemed I would have to wait. 

“Why didn’t you do that sooner?” I hissed, turning to the mirror, which was now clear. The man I assumed was Tony Stark stood behind it. Shorter by a man’s standards, with dark hair, eyes, and some questionable facial hair, he didn’t really live up to what I had heard of him.

Mr. Stark shrugged.

“Didn’t think of it until you started sobbing,” I glared at him. I didn’t cry when I opened my eyes, let alone sob. “Come to think of it, those lights might be the reason why you have such a killer headache. I’ll get them to adjust it.”

“Why do you even care?” I spat. 

“There’s worse places to be. Besides, I’m more about rehabilitation than lifetime imprisonment. I let the government take care of the latter for me,” 

I looked at him incredulously. 

“Besides, you’re a kid. And you have a headache to boot, so yeah. I’ll have a talk about your lighting situation,”

Mr. Stark pulled a chair up. There were several in the blank white room behind him. The lighting in there was softer though, not quite as excruciating as the lighting in mine was, even with the lights lowered. 

I sat on the ground, legs folded underneath me. It wasn’t elegant, but I honestly didn’t care.

“So, long story short, the United States government is onto you,” Mr. Stark said.

“Oh no, the government,” I deadpanned. Honestly, I wanted him to leave so I could go back to sleeping. 

“And have I mentioned, the horseman of this whole operation has formed a habit of calling me every other day. I swear if Ross-”

My headache spiked. My vision went white. All I could hear was indistinct mumbling as I was thrown into yet another flashback. 

_ I was near the chair, and a man by the name of Ross was near. Dressed in a nice suit, the man looked like he had no place in the dirty concrete facility. I heard words, but only caught a few.  _

When I snapped out of the brief memory wave, Mr. Stark was still talking, but I cut him off.

“Do you have a picture?”

Mr. Stark stopped talking suddenly.

“Of Ross?” He whipped his phone out and started typing. In a couple seconds, he had a picture of the same man in my memory. 

“He’s with Hydra, or worked with them at some point. I saw him. In my memory.” I blocked the cameras as I spoke; Hydra knows who was watching. The thought itself was ironic. 

I pushed myself off the floor as Mr. Stark sank back in his seat. 

“Surprised?” I asked, slightly amused. 

“Honestly, I don’t think anything could surprise me anymore. It’s just,” Mr. Stark ran a hand down his face, “Ross hunted my friend for being mutated by an experiment. I could never imagine him working with an organization that had an enhanced, or is it mutated? Whatever, person do their dirty work. But with the last seven months, I have learned not to anticipate whatever Ross could say or do,”

“Who was your friend?” I asked, just out of curiosity. (An emotion you shouldn’t been feeling, my agonized mind whispered)

“Oh, Bruce Banner. I-” again, Mr. Stark was cut off by a wave of memories.

_ “I won’t make the same mistake I did with Banner. All mutated or enhanced individuals must be wiped out for the safety of this country,” I heard a man say.  _

_ I saw flames and explosions, smoke reaching it’s dark, morbid fingers to the sky. I saw hands, my own, setting bombs against lockers and houses. I was the cause of the smoke and flame.  _

When I came to my senses, I was laying on the floor, staring up at the lights. I had collapsed on the ground. I groaned and rolled over. My headache finally began to subside after days. 

“Kid? You okay?” Mr. Stark said behind the glass. I sat up and looked at his worried expression. Why was he worried? He shouldn’t even care. All I had been doing was cause him trouble. 

I checked the hidden microphones, to make sure they couldn’t pick up anything I was saying. Even in my weakened state, the sound barrier was still up, disabling anyone from hearing the conversation Mr. Stark and I were holding. 

“2015,” I stuttered, barely getting the number out of my mouth. 

“What about 2015? Why’d you collapse?” 

“Explosions,”

“The School Explosions?” Mr. Stark said, before his eyes widened, “You don’t mean-”

“Ross,” I said, the name finally rolling off my tongue. 

Mr. Stark turned white and stood up so fast his chair tipped back, but he grabbed it before it could fall. 

“I need to look for something,” and upon saying that, he rushed out of the room, leaving me all alone with what I had just witnessed in my memories.

I sighed and dragged myself to my cot. My eyes were heavy and what I just witnessed was too awful to even speak of, even for me. Part of me hated that I even remembered it. 

I laid on my cot and stared up at the padded ceiling. After a while, I closed my eyes and tried to get some sleep, even if the lights were still on. 

Just before I fell asleep, I had a single thought.

How many people had I killed for Hydra?

When the lights flashed back on again and woke me up the next day, I still squinted in the light, but it wasn’t as bad as it normally was. Mr. Stark must have spoken to them; either that or they just hadn’t bothered to change it after he had the day before. 

All traces of my headache had disappeared overnight. My vision was clear, light didn’t hurt, and most importantly, it didn’t feel like someone was chopping my head open with a dull ax. I could finally think clearly.

I took a deep breath in, the first in days where I hadn’t been in any pain when I had done so. How I had taken being in no pain for granted. I probably shouldn’t do that as my days were most likely numbered. As soon as I got back to Hydra, I would most likely be disposed of for all the trouble I had caused. 

Honestly, I wasn’t all that disappointed or scared. I deserved it. I had compromised Hydra and brought it to the attention of Tony Stark, who no doubt wouldn’t rest until all traces of Hydra were rid from his company. 

I got up and stretched my arms behind my back before walking over to the desk to eat what little breakfast I considered safe. Or really, what little breakfast my stomach could handle. I should probably try to eat a little more, as the past few days I had been vomiting it all up, but the food was so rich, even the oatmeal. I hadn’t quite gotten used to all the sweetness it held. It was strange. 

I reached under the bowl to grab the spoon, but what I found instead was a small bunch of wires. I kept my face blank as I wrapped my hand around the spoon and hid the wires under my bowl once more. 

I took a few bites of the oatmeal before it became too much for me. I took a couple sips of the water as well, but that was all I felt safe with. I would drink more once I brushed my teeth. 

I glanced about. Projecting myself standing up and stretching once more to the cameras, I quickly stuffed the bunch of wires down my sports bra, along with the plans for the nanotech. I lifted up the bowl to see if there was anything else, and sure enough, there was a small, green circuit board and a few more wires I would need.

To top it all off, I grabbed the spoon from the tray, replacing it with a fake projection so nothing would be off. 

Finally, I would be able to finish my mission.

I just hoped I would have enough time. 


	14. Chapter Twelve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that this is my least favorite chapter and that the only experience I have with the topics in this chapter is research. I can not guarantee that this is an accurate representation and for that, I am sorry.
> 
> In this chapter, there is a suicide attempt. If you are bothered or triggered by that, there will be "***" before and after each mention (there are two) a brief summary at the end of the chapter. 
> 
> If there is anyway I messed up or did not write this terrible event correctly, please message me and I will fix it to the best of my ability.

Blanket Warnings: On-screen death, disaster aftermath, suicide attempt. 

The good thing was, the next day I had a plan. 

Or at least I hoped I did as I attached the wired to the circuit board. If I didn’t have a plan by now, that probably wouldn't be the best thing. But one thing's for sure, I was getting out of this place in no less than three days. That would give me between five and seven days to get the information I needed and get out of this place.

As far as I knew, I couldn’t get out by way of the door, unless Mr. Stark’s threat of guards stationed outside it was empty, but he didn’t seem like a man who would propose empty threats. And while that wasn’t the best thing for me and my plans, I could work around it. I could go through the hamper; the overhead vent and food door were both too small.

I was thankful I kept the spoon. I melted it down well enough to roughly mold it into two rectangular shapes. 

That was annoying. I could melt small pieces of metal by heating molecules around it, but I couldn’t melt a whole door. Even breaking it down would be good, but no. My powers were too feeble for that kind of work. 

Part of me wondered if my superiors at Hydra kept it that way.

No. They wouldn’t do that. I was their most valuable asset, they would want me up to par with my powers so I could do my missions. 

Right?

I shook my head, trying to get the stray thought out of my head. I didn’t need to think of those things, I had a job to do. 

All at once, I was thankful my head had stopped aching. If it hadn’t stopped, I probably wouldn’t have been able to complete the mission at all, let alone complete it possibly ahead of the deadline. I hadn’t gotten any memory flashes since I had talked to Mr. Stark two days ago, which I was very happy about. 

I reached for the laser I had made a few hours beforehand, clicking it to a lower setting. I didn’t want to burn all my hardwork to put a brand on it. Honestly, I probably didn’t even need it, but I was bored, and maybe I would get praise for putting it on there. 

I started to burn the Hydra symbol onto the metal of the flash drive. I took great time and effort into it, taking almost ten minutes to make the circle around it, and even longer to burn the inside design. When I had finished, I leaned back to inspect my work. The eight tentacles headed by a skull. 

Suddenly, my head screamed in pain. My vision turned white as I shoved my fist in my mouth to muffle my scream. Moments, memories yet again flashed before my eyes.

_ A small hand, my hand, holding a gun pointed at Tarin. She tied to a human-shaped target that dwarfed her and was wailing, large tears streaming down her small face. The Hydra symbol was on the corner of the target. _

_ “Okay, now. Just like we practiced,” a woman I recognized as Doctor Galley spoke in my ear, “You wouldn’t want to disappoint me, would you?” In the memory, however, I felt only a little trust for her. I must not have known her for long at this point.  _

_ I shook my head and pulled the trigger. A small red dot appeared at the center of Tarin’s head, right between her eyes.  _

_ She stopped crying and slumped over, going still. The room was silent.  _

_ I realized what I had done, and my eyes welled up with tears. My mouth opened in a heart-wrenching wail.  _

_ “TARA,” I wailed to her dead body. People started swarming around me, but over the commotion I heard Doctor Galley’s voice. _

_ “Is she too young?” But I disregarded it and continued to cry. Unfriendly hands grabbed me and stopped me from running over to my sister’s body. I felt something that felt like a helmet being shoved onto my head and after that, all was dark.  _

_ Adara and I were sparring on the training room floor, scuffling to pin the other down. We both wore large inhibitors on our heads blocked our powers and made it hard to think. Though I was smaller than her, I nonetheless pushed her to the ground. Ada’s lip seemed to have busted at some point, blood running down her chin and neck. She grabbed my shoulder and tried to twist my arm behind my back, but I caught her in a chokehold instead.  _

_ “That all ya got Tina?” she said, before throwing me over her back and onto the mat. I scrambled back, recovering quickly, and swiped under her legs, causing her to fall on her side.  _

_ “Stop,” Agent Durus quickly commanded. Ada and I quickly stood up and backed into our separate corners of the mat.  _

_ The Agent went and spoke to Ada, whispering in her ear. I watched as she nodded, frowning. Agent Durus walked up to me, bending down to whisper into my ear.  _

_ “I want you to use any means possible to win,” he said, his lips a hair from my ear. I shivered a little and nodded.  _

_ He stepped back off the mat. I looked over and noticed that Kendra and M were gone. I shrugged, stretching my shoulders and putting my fists up before the start of the sparring match.  _

_ Agent Durus blew a small whistle and the match began.  _

_ Ada started by diving for my legs, but I jumped over her and landed behind her. In the moment she took to steady herself, I threw a punch toward her jaw, which she blocked with precision. Taking my fist in her hand, she tried twisting it behind my back, but I freed my hand before she could do so, shoving her across the mat. She came back quickly, swinging for my middle. I backed up just in time to not get hit and while she was unguarded, grabbed her by the middle and forced her to the ground. _

_ Needless to say, this wasn’t her best match, but up close her face and eyes were red and blotchy and her eyes were wet. Had she been crying?  _

_ “Good match,” Agent Durus said, walking over. I started to get up from my position on top of Ada. _

_ “No, no. Stay there.” He got close, bent down, and put a knife in my hand. It was short, but sharp and beautiful.  _

_ “This is a test,” he whispered, his voice raspy and slow, “I need you... to kill her,” _

_ I opened my mouth to protest, but the Agent put his hand up. I slowly closed my mouth. _

_ “She isn’t needed anymore. But you are. I need you to kill her,” _

_ I looked down at Ada and noticed out of the corner of my eye that other Agents were filtering into the room.  _

_ Ada’s eyes were closed, but silent tears streamed down her face.  _

_ I stabbed the middle of her chest, hoping to give her a painless death. _

_ I didn’t hear Agent Durus’ voice as he told me to get up and follow some agent, but I did without hesitation. I felt numb, but I could feel the tears running in earnest down my face. I entered the room with the agent, who sat me in a chair and put a headpiece on.  _

_ I was thankful when the world went black.  _

_ Kendra and I stood in Doctor Galley’s office, seemingly after we had been called out of our room the memory I had seen several weeks ago. The Doctor eyed us suspiciously.  _

_ “We have a mission for the two of you in Boston, Massachusetts. We have several agents scouting out a new area for a base. We need you two to protect each group of agents,” I nodded immediately, but it took Kae a few seconds to nod.  _

_ “There will be two agents with each of you. You will act as tourists, so suggest you wear your civilian clothing. Follow the agents, make sure they do not get in fatal trouble,” _

_ I nodded again. Doctor Galley motioned for us to leave the room. This mission would be easy, fun even. It might be nice to go out as a “tourist”.  _

_ As soon as we got back to our room to get dressed and prepared for the mission, I tried talking to Kae. _

_ “What do you think of the mission?” I asked her.  _

_ She glared a little, and looked at me seriously.  _

_ “You already know what I think,” she said before trying to walk off. I grabbed her arm. _

_ “Why do you hate Hydra so much? This is our home. Where we belong. The things we do we do for the greater good!” _

_ “For whose greater good?” she said coldly. _

_ I was confused. What was she talking about? _

_ “For Hydra’s of course,”  _

_ “I’m not sure if their ‘greater good’ is good at all. And I think you should wonder the same,” She said before walking off to her cot to grab clothes. I stared at her as she went along. What was her problem? She hadn’t been eating much as of late. Maybe she was becoming delirious.  _

_ I shrugged and went about what I was doing, gathering a bundle of civilian clothes and changing into them.  _

_ I didn’t remember much else of the mission, nor how we got on top of a warehouse or why there was a large sniping gun set up in plain sight.  _

_ “Change of mission,” the female agent said coldly when I looked up at her for clarification. I got the feeling she wasn’t happy with what was happening now either.  _

_ I walked up to the rifle and it’s stand.  _

_ “There’s going to be a girl, approximately 4 feet and 2 inches tall, to step in that circle in the middle of the square,” the male agent said, motioning to the circle. When she is in your line of sight, you shoot to kill, understood?” I nodded. _

_ “ETA 30 seconds,” the female agent said.  _

_ I took the gun in my hands, and lay on the hot roof. The sun was beating down, and the metal of the gun was burning my hands, but I didn’t make a sound. _

_ 15 seconds. _

_ There were not many people in the square, which was good if I was going to carry out a murder.  _

_ Five seconds. I saw who I thought was the girl.  _

_ “That’s her,” the male agent confirmed. _

_ She stepped inside the circle. I pulled the trigger.  _

_ I turned back to the agents, my mission complete. After a couple minutes of waiting outside the warehouse, we were picked up in a black van.  _

_ When I got back to the base, Kendra wasn’t there to help me with the angry burns on my hands.  _

_ It felt like deja vu.  _

_ I was sparring on the mat again, except I looked the same age I was now and it was M I was sparring with, not Ada.  _

_ I watched listlessly, though I was inside my body. I didn’t want to do this, I didn’t want to be here. I knew what happened next. _

_ I twisted M’s arm behind his back and forced him to the ground, ending the match. We got up. We sparred again.  _

_ I wiped blood from under my nose from where it had been punched at some point. Thankfully it wasn’t broken, otherwise this fight would have ended a long time ago.  _

_ “Sloppy, Storm,” I rolled my eyes at the mission name, “Try to win this time. Again,” Agent Durus shouted from the sidelines.  _

_ We went to the opposite sides of the mat. I watched as my brother smiled reassuringly at me. I smiled back. While M wasn’t powered like I was, he had a strength problem as he liked to call it. He still required a inhibitor, but instead of a heavy band that would wrap around my head, he had bands that would be wrapped around his arms, legs, and torso.  _

_ We had been fighting for hours, and yet he was still bouncing on his toes, ready to start the match.  _

_ “Start,” Agent Durus shouted, and off we went.  _

_ We circled the middle for a couple seconds, before I threw a punch toward his cheek. He blocked it right before I hit him, but it was a close call nonetheless. He attempted to go for my middle but I stepped back and lunged for his legs.  _

_ He, much taller than me, went down with a mighty crash, initiating a bout of ground wrestling. He grabbed ahold of my shoulders, trying to force me down on the mat, but I kicked his stomach, winding him, before rolling over, forcing his limbs on the ground and digging my forearm into his throat. _

_ “Good job,” I turned over to Agent Durus, who never gave praise. “Kill him,”  _

_ A million thoughts ran through my mind, all of them generally being,  _ no _. _

_ I looked back down at M, whose eyes were wide, but calm in the same moment. Slowly, he nodded. I wrapped my hands around his throat and squeezed. Slowly, M’s face turned red, then blue, then purple. Tears were streaming down my face, and he kept mouthing “It’s okay,” even though it wasn’t not one bit. It wasn’t okay what so ever. _

_ “Kill him faster,” I was sobbing now.  _

_ I took the side of his face and the top of his head, and cleanly snapped his neck. His eyes were wide,bloodshot, and terribly empty, too empty for M, too empty for anyone.  _

_ I was screaming, but I couldn’t hear the words coming out of my mouth. Rough hands dragged me away from his body, which was left to lay on the mat until someone came to collect him. _

_ I was dragged down a hallway and into a dark, musty room with one item in it, a large metal chair.  _

_ I was forced down into it. The hands fastened straps all over my body and wrestled a piece into my mouth.  _

_ A piece of metal came down over my head and then I felt the most unbearable pain I had ever felt. It seemed to tear at my every cell, each one screaming it’s own chorus of pain to an unyielding room. My head felt like it was imploding, folding in on itself with every beat of my heart.  _

_ All went black, but the pain was still there.  _

I came to my senses in a snivelling puddle on the floor of my cell.

“ это пиздец”  I muttered, tears in my eyes. Because really that’s all I could say. How do you react when you remember the people you thought you could trust made you murder your siblings. 

I felt torn apart, ripped to shreds. My life was a lie, and I was made to forget it. 

***

My chest hurt, my head hurt. I felt like death, and honestly, the idea didn’t seem like a bad one. I had nothing left, I had no one to miss me. I had killed all my siblings. Why not make it a complete set?

I shook my head. I couldn’t. I had work to do. 

I tried to get up, but ended up pushing myself up against the wall, silent tears streaming down my face. 

What had Kae said? “I’m not sure the ‘greater good’ is good at all. You should wonder the same.”? I was wondering the same, years too late. 

I felt clear headed and clouded at the same time. All the blind trust I had for Hydra was gone, or at least it felt gone in this moment. I wasn’t sure if I would side with them when the time came. 

Finally, after what seemed like years, I stood up. Lunch was on the desk, but I had no appetite like I usually did. I turned away from the meal and walked to the bathroom, eye on the sink. I didn’t trust myself to look in the mirror.

I didn’t remember every feeling this way before. It felt empty, numb, and yet full of fiery anger; at me, at Hydra, but mostly at myself for every listening to them. 

My memory of my siblings would forever be tainted by me and me alone, that is, if those memories weren’t taken from me. I made the mistake of looking up and into the mirror. I looked into my eyes. My empty eyes. A sudden surge of anger rose inside me, and I punched the mirror.

It divided as pieces shattered over the floor, the sink, and in my knuckles. I choked on a sob, but not because of the glass shards in my hands. No, I was in too deep for that. 

I had become a certain person without even knowing it. An apathetic person who didn’t remember killing her own siblings. Hydra, the apathetic organization that made me forget killing my own siblings, and the organization that initiated all those deaths in the first place.

I was awful and all this was my fault. I caught a glimpse of myself in the shattered mirror scattered along the floor. I bent down slowly, picking up a long shard of glass. I gripped it hard and it cut my palm. I deserved it; I deserved the pain. My reflection stared back at me, eyes red and wild with fear and impulse. 

I couldn’t live with myself, knowing what I had done, and knowing I had done more than I could remember. 

So if I couldn’t live with myself, why should I?

***

~~~

If there was one time Tony was thankful for Captain America, it was now. 

After scouring the internet and countless files for any information on the girl downstairs, he finally encountered the files that were dropped when both S.H.I.E.L.D. and Hydra fell a little over 2 years ago. The files were detailed, but not exact what he was looking for. There was no mention of the girl directly, and because she didn’t know or wouldn’t tell them her name. Honestly, that was a good decision. Tony couldn’t search up any files on her otherwise. 

Tony sighed and minimised the many tabs he had open on his computer screen. He was working in his office, trying and failing to get anything done. He was distracted and didn’t have any desire to do anything worthwhile for the company. He worked on the StarkPad yesterday and got it up to standard. There was a meeting about that next Friday, so for once Tony was prepared beforehand. Though, it didn’t mean he would enjoy the meeting. 

Maybe he could sneak down to the lab? He texted Pepper, telling her the situation. After a couple minutes, she agreed. If she hadn’t agreed, that would have been awkward, as he was already in the lab. 

The lab woke up as soon as Tony entered, blue screens popping up with recent projects and to-do lists. The windows opened to reveal a bird’s eye view of New York. 

_ Pete’s going to be over in a few hours. I wonder what he’s going to want to work on.  _ Tony mused as he sat in the rolling desk chair Peter usually occupied. 

Tony thought back to the conversation he had with the girl downstairs the other day. There was nothing to link Ross working for Hydra at any point, or even Hydra working for Ross. He couldn’t release a controversial statement without any evidence other than his evident hate of mutant and enhanced persons and the fact that Tony didn’t like him, to back him up. But the thing about the School Explosions of 2015? That could give him something. 

Tony had heard about it before, sure, but he hadn’t paid attention to it much unless it was to give relief supplies to the hit areas. He was still trying to clean up the mess of Sokovia with the other, which turned out to be a slow-going process.

Tony pulled up a few articles on the events. From August to October, according to the first article Tony read, there were over 50 explosions in areas all around the world, mostly in schools. Bombs set under desks in classrooms, in lockers, ceilings, floors, and backpacks. When all the schools shut down due to the panic and hysteria, the culprit moved on to full houses in neighborhoods, often causing damage and sometimes full destruction to other houses in the area. 

Tony searched further. There were over a thousand deaths of children, teachers, parents, and civilians in the crossfire. Some say that they saw who did it, but the description was always different, leading experts and news sources to believe that the explosions were orchestrated by more than one person. 

Honestly, reading up on the Explosions made Tony sick to his stomach, especially since he thought the person who set some of them was inside his tower. There were pictures of the destustuciton in almost every article; pictures of giant craters where classrooms once stood, homes around a smoldering shell that had been a house were on fire, dark smoke rising up to the sky. Soot covered children walking in lines out of schools, following frantic teachers to a crowd of frantic parents, all wondering if their children had been killed or maimed. 

Seeing the pictures and reading the interviews, Tony leaned back in his chair. Dum-E, seeing his distress perhaps, came over and gently tapped Tony on the shoulder. 

“Hey Dum-E,” Tony said, patting the old robot on the head. Dum-E chirped in return and sped off to the mini fridge and blender, apparently with the intention to make Tony a smoothie. 

Tony chuckled and watched as the robot sped around like an energetic child, trying to make it’s father happy. He watched as Dum-E added (probably expired) spinach, a banana, yogurt, and motor oil to the smoothie. The robot chirped and looked back at Tony, his hand hovering over the start button on the blender. Tony nodded. Dum-E squealed and blended the “healthy” ingredients, which quickly turned an unpleasant brown.

Satisfied with his work, Dum-E poured his concoction into a glass and brought it to Tony. Smiling, Tony took the glass. Dum-E squealed and sped away to Butterfingers and U, who were resting on their chargers. No doubt they would soon be up and roaming the lab. 

Tony’s smile faded as he turned back to the screens. There was nothing on the Hydra/S.H.I.E.L.D. severver, Tony had already searched. During the event, Ross hadn’t made any statements. There was nothing, no evidence to trace that Ross did anything with Hydra. 

Maybe he should do as Ross said, go talk to the girl. He should be safe enough. He had his Iron Man suit; he had recently integrated his nanotech into the suit so he could summon it at a moment’s notice. If the girl decided to attack him, he would be able to fight back without getting either of them killed. 

Tony stood up, taking the smoothie with him, and walked out of the lab. He went up to his and Pepper’s personal floor, stopping by the kitchen to wash out the glass and put it in the dishwasher. He then got into the elevator and rode down to the basement, where the containment cells and interrogation rooms were located. 

The hallways down there were well lit with tile floors, something Tony doubted Hydra had. Maybe the girl might appreciate it if she ever saw the hallways, Tony mused. She couldn’t though. There was a strong policy initiated by Fury that Tony hadn’t bothered to remove that stated prisoners, if they had to be moved, must be unconscious so that they wouldn't learn their ways around the halls, and make an attempt to get out. Considering over the years the Tower had held some more dangerous criminals, the policy wasn’t for nothing. Actually, considering that the girl wanted to escape and would probably do anything to do so, it was probably a good idea. 

There were two guards on either side of the door into the cell, but they quickly stepped back as Tony approached. Tony put in the key to open the door, and it swung open.

The first thing Tony heard was the shower. The girl’s lunch was on the desk, a sandwich, apple, and glass of water. The door closed behind Tony. 

“Hey um, HT57! Can I call you something different?” Tony called. There was no answer.

“KID!” He called again, and again there was no answer. 

“Hey Friday, can you do a scan, make sure she’s okay?” 

“Of course Boss,” Friday said. 

The scan ended with a beep.

“What is it Fri?” Tony asked.

“I think you should see for yourself Boss,” Friday’s voice was quiet, almost scared in a way, but urgent. Tony walked over to the bathroom doorway, glass shards crunching underfoot, and looked to the tub.

***

The curtain wasn’t closed, displaying the awful scene that lay before Tony. 

The first thing Tony noticed was blood, a lot of it. Blood on the ground, blood on glass, blood on clothes, blood in the water as Tony leaned over the almost-full tub, drain plugged up with a t-shirt.

The second thing Tony noticed was the cuts. Long, thin cuts, from the girl’s elbows to her wrists, eight of them to each forearm, about half an inch apart. She was soaked, up in the water to her chin. It was a miracle she hadn’t drowned. 

She was passed out, looking almost peaceful, except for the fact that her normally tan skin was sheet pale and a sheen of sweat was spread over her forehead. Her lips had a blue tinge. Tony got close to her and gripped her unnaturally cold shoulder, trying to shake her awake. It only succeeded to splash water over the edge of the tub. 

“Friday, call medical,” Tony said shakily. 

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First ***:  
> Corentine, in light of the recently uncovered memories, becomes angry, at herself and Hydra for lying to her, and hopeless. She punches a mirror and makes up her mind. 
> 
> Second ***: Tony finds Corentine and calls for medical. 
> 
> National Suicide Prevention Lifeline (USA): 800-273-8255
> 
> International Suicide Hotlines (countries listed alphabetically): https://www.opencounseling.com/suicide-hotlines
> 
> If you or anyone you know is in immediate danger, call your local emergency number.


	15. Chapter Thirteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops, this is really late, sorry. I was camping this weekend, so no Wi-Fi and school's a bitch soooooo...
> 
> Enjoy!

I was floating, but I didn’t remember using my powers. I opened my eyes. That was strange.

My room was still white. Was this the place where awful people go when they die? Because I was an awful person. But this place was awfully white for Hell. 

And I wasn’t in pain anymore. If I died, then you have no pain. ‘Cause your corpse can’t feel pain. Was there an after-life? I wasn’t even sure. I heard someone talking about it once, but I didn’t really pay attention. I probably should have. That could have helped me determine where I was.

I started laughing. I didn’t know why. Nothing was particularly funny. Except for the fact I had no idea where I was. 

But if the person that was talking about the afterlife was alive, then they couldn’t have died. They didn’t know what the afterlife was like. Why did they talk like the afterlife like they knew what it was?

“Am I dead?” I said, by this time shaking with laughter. 

“You almost died. Does that count?’ a voice said. I jumped, not seeing who was there even though I looked around.

“Where are you?” I said. 

“You’re really loud when you’re high, did you know that?” the voice said. 

“I can kill you?” I said, but it ended in a question mark because I had some leather straps around my middle. I tried to focus my powers on the straps to break out and find the person, but they wouldn’t break. 

“You probably shouldn’t do that,” The voice said, “You could hurt yourself,” 

I was going to kill the voice when I found it. Or maybe I shouldn’t. I had already killed so many people, so it probably wasn’t a very good idea. Not good. I didn’t really want to kill a lot of people. 

“I forgot killing people,” I said out loud, just to remind myself.

“How do you forget killing people? Look left,” I looked left. I heard the voice sigh. 

“Your _other_ left,” the voice said. I looked to my other left. There were more than two lefts?

To my other left, there was a man with a weird beard, looking tired. I remembered that he was short for some reason.

“You need sleep, short man,” I said. The short man looked at me strangely. 

“I’m not short,” he said. But he was lying, I saw it with my eyes. 

“I saw it with my,” I pointed to my eye. 

“Eye?” the man said slowly. 

Oh, my arms were free. 

“Yes, they are free, mostly because your wrists are still healing,” Wow, a mind reader. 

“I’m not reading your mind, you’re just saying all this stuff out loud,” 

If you’re really not a mind reader, what am I thinking. Apples should be called reds. 

“Kid, you’re insane,” the man said, shaking his head. 

“What’s on my wrists?” I asked, lifting my arms up to eye level. 

“Those are bandages, because you decided to slit your wrists,” I gaped at him. 

“I tried to kill myself?’

“Yes,”

“Did I die?” 

“What do you think?”

I waited a minute to answer, before saying;

“Yes,” The man put his face to his hands. 

“You didn’t die kid. But what I want to know is why you even tried in the first place,” I got serious all of a sudden. 

“Are there cameras?” The man seemed a bit surprised. 

“Yes. This is the criminal medical ward. Of course there are cameras,”

“I can’t tell you anything then,” The man nodded and got up from his chair. 

Where was he going?

“Give me a second. I’ll be back,” the man said, before walking out of the room. I sat for a couple of minutes and fidgeted with the line running into my arm. I wondered what was in it, because it was clear. I thought about pulling it out, but the man got back before I could do anything. 

Why was I calling him the man? He had a name. It started with a Y. 

Or maybe a S. 

Or maybe a K.

“My name is Tony Stark. And the cameras are now off. No one can see or hear us right now,”

“So, no Hydra?” 

“No Hydra, I promise,” the man said. 

“But I got your name right, right?”

“Not quite. You were close. But not quite,”

“Okay. Can I tell my story now?” I asked, Mr. Stark nodded. 

“Go right on ahead,” 

I nodded and started my long story. 

“So I got my mission from Hydra, and they said, ‘Go kill Zoe Howes, former employee,’ and I said okay. I didn’t have much choice, but I said okay anyway. So I came and killed her, but I tried to get out and I got caught, so I was stuck in a cell, right?” I looked over at the man, who nodded, still looking at me oddly. 

“Am I doing okay?” I asked him. 

“Yeah, but I was wondering if you could skip to yesterday,”

“I was asleep for a whole day?” my mouth fell open in surprise. 

“Only about 12 hours. You had to do a blood transfusion, stitching, and all that fun stuff before you got in here,”

“That’s a lot,” 

“It is, but I have minimal time here, so could you please hurry?” 

“Yes! So you know how I did the school explosion or whatever?” I looked over at the man, who was nodding his head.

“I should have waited until you weren’t high on your pain meds, but continue,”

“So I was building my laser thing, and I did the Hydra symbol because I like it. It’s pretty. But then my head started to really hurt. I had been getting all these memories because I forgot a lot of them. But I remembered my siblings, I had four of them. There was Tara, Ada, Kae, and M. M was a boy, by the way. I had a brother, that’s pretty cool. But then Hydra made me make them die. And I didn’t like myself for that, so I decided the world could live without me. Can I die now? I don’t think my story was very long.”

“No you can’t die,” was all the man said. He looked at me like he was studying me. Like a bug. 

“I also killed a president I think,” I said. 

“The last president here to be assassinated was John F. Kendedy, I highly doubt that,” 

I shrugged. 

“Maybe in this county,” Mr. Stark looked at me strangely.

For a minute, there was silence. 

“You’re young, and you were mostly brainwashed. If you're sorry about it, I bet you could get pardoned and be able to live a normal life. We can get you away from Hydra,” I think Mr. Stark thought he was making a good deal.

“But I won’t be safe. I can’t just leave, even if I don’t like it,” 

“It might not be at first, but I can give you protection. Most of the acts you have commited are punishable by death, but you could get pardoned. You could be okay and-”

“But that’s my home. I don’t know what I would do without my home,”

Mr. Stark stared at me for a minute, perhaps considering me. Maybe my head felt a little clearer, but was that pity in his eyes?

“Maybe you should get some sleep,” Mr. Stark said. I nodded and closed my eyes, laying back in the hospital bed as comfortably as I could while being attached to it. 

Mr. Stark seemed to linger for a minute, before starting to walk out of the door. My eyes snapped open. I had to tell him something. 

“Mr. Stark!” I said. He turned back around.

“Yes?” He said.

“You can’t tell anyone. No one. Not a person. If you do-”

“It’s okay. I don’t plan on saying anything to anyone” he said with a small laugh. I sighed in relief. 

“You can call me Cori if you want. It’s short for Corentine, but I don’t like that name. It’s my birth name I think,” I scratched the back of my head before sinking back into the pillows. 

Mr. Stark paused before responding. 

“Thanks, Cori. Goodnight,” He said, before walking out the door. 

I smiled, sinking into sleep easily. 

~~~

Tony was grinning like a madman.

He realized he probably shouldn't have been, considering the story Cori had just told him was astronomical amounts of messed up, but at the very end, she had told him her name. It was better than calling her a string of numbers and letters. 

Another good thing was he could possibly find her on Hydra servers and research what she had done, or been made to do to give her a better chance if she wanted to integrate herself into society at some point. 

The thing was, Cori was still undyingly loyal to Hydra. She still considered it her home, even though she didn’t like the atrocious acts she had committed whilst under their control. She hadn’t seen any of the real world, only a world everyone else wanted her to see. 

But what if Tony could help her see a bit more? It would only be a temporary situation, probably for only a few weeks.

The thing was, Tony would need to have approval, and that was a little harder to come by. But he called up Pepper. Over the years, he had learned that with certain things, it was _not_ good to be spontaneous with them, and he had a feeling a young teenage assassin was one of them. 

Pepper picked up on the first couple of rings.

“What did you do this time?” she said as soon as she picked up.

“Am I that predictable?” 

“Yes,” Tony could hear the smile in Pepper’s voice. 

“Wow. I love you too. But this time I’m asking for permission.”

“Okay then,”

“So you know that girl who broke in a couple weeks ago?” She did, but Tony was just asking for courtesy.

“Yes,” she said slowly, “What are you thinking?”

“Well, she told me her name. It’s Cori, by the way. She told me the reason she… you know. They made her kill her siblings, Pep,”

Pepper inhaled sharply.

“Really?” she said, her voice quiet. 

“Yeah. She seemed like she didn’t really trust them, or anyone for that matter, but she’s still loyal, just not sure. I was thinking if we exposed her to the world a little, she would decide not to attempt to go back to Hydra,”

“You are not taking her outside the Tower I hope,”

“I’m many things Pep, but an idiot is not one of them. Dumbass, maybe, but not an idiot. I was thinking we set up a room in the Tower, a little closer to the top, so she couldn’t get to the ground as easily. Maybe introduce her to some people, some of her age group.”

“You want to introduce Peter to her, don’t you,”

“I mean, yes. Peter’s around the same age as her, smart, and knows the teenage experience. I think they have a few things in common.”

Pepper sighed.

“You would need to get someone to make sure the room is up to standard in order to hold someone like her,” she said. Tony could hear her typing on her computer, “I could call up some people to do it in the next couple of hours. The door would need to be updated. We would need to make sure her cuffs work in that room,”

Tony nodded along at her list.

“How long do you think that would take?” Tony was a bit anxious, and it would probably be better if Cori was sedated while she was moved. 

“Probably a couple of hours. I just contacted them, so give me a minute,” 

“While we wait, what do you want for dinner?” They made it a habit of switching off making dinner every other day, cooking together on Saturday and Sunday nights. Today, it was Tony’s turn to make dinner.

“Your mother’s lasagna last week was really good. Pasta just sounds really good to me right now,” 

“I think we have some spaghetti noodles and sauce. That sound okay?” 

“It does. Let’s hope you don’t burn down the kitchen this time,”

“That was once!” Tony said.

“And I’m never letting it go!” Pepper said, laughing, “They said they would be up in a couple minutes and should be done in about two hours. That’s good, I hope,”

“Yep. I’m heading there now,” Tony said, hopping on an elevator. “You’re a lifesaver Pep,” 

“Just a little bit,” Tony smiled, “See you tonight,” 

“See you tonight. Love you.”

“Love you too, Tony. Now go do something productive,” 

“I will.” With that, Tony hung up. He rode up, surrounded by starstruck employees. After a minute, they all got off, leaving Tony alone. 

He pulled out his phone and clicked on Peter Parker’s contact. He would probably be on patrol, but because Friday hadn’t alerted Tony of anything going on, Peter was probably hanging somewhere around Queens, waiting for something to happen. He felt bad for having to cancel Lab Time for the week because of Cori, but Tony was sure he wouldn't hold it against him. 

Tony’s hunch was confirmed when Peter picked up on the first ring.

“Hi Mr. Stark!” the kid said enthusiastically, bringing a smile to Tony’s face, “Has something happened? Do you need me? I can be at the Tower-”

“It’s okay, kid, calm down. Nothing happened,” Tony cut him off. 

“So, why are you calling me,” he said, “I mean, not to be rude or anything but you never call me unless it’s something important,” the Kid laughed nervously.

“You know the girl that broke into the Tower a few weeks ago? You wanted to meet her.” Tony said, stepping out of the elevator. He stopped in the entryway to listen to Peter. 

Peter paused a minute, surprised by Tony’s question.

“I mean, yes,” he answered. 

“Would you like to meet her?” 

There was a pause. 

“But I thought you said-” Peter started to say, but Tony cut him off.

“Forget what I said. Would you like to meet her?”

“Yeah,” Peter said, a little sheepishly, “That would kind of be really cool,” 

“Nice. I’ll pick you up from school Friday, and you can come meet her. Bring your web shooters,” like Peter didn’t bring them everywhere, “Is that good kid?” 

“Yeah, um, that’s really good. Thanks Mr. Stark!” Peter said. Tony could almost see the wide smile on his face. 

“Anytime kid. And it’s Tony,” 

It seemed that Tony had finally rendered Peter speechless.

“Okay Mr. Sta- Tony. Thank you!”

“You’re welcome. See you Friday,”

“See you Friday, Mr. Stark,” Peter said, before hanging up. Tony shook his head. Where did he get this kid? He was too, well, good. 

Tony walked toward the room he had designated for Cori’s room. The team Pepper had sent was already there, working on reinforcing the door, making it only work with vocal and facial identification. There was also a grid inside the door, so if Cori ever tried to walk out, she would be restricted and given a nasty shock through her cuff. While Tony didn’t like the idea, he had to realize that it was necessary. He didn’t want her to escape, if she planned to escape like she was told to. 

He also requested that the grids be fit along air vents and any openings inside the room. The team worked diligently and honestly, so Tony didn’t feel the need to watch their progress, instead running up to the lab. He needed to look at something and update Cori’s cuffs. 

Once he got to the lab, Tony pulled up the Hydra servers, searching for any mention of “Corentine”. To his relief, eight files popped up immediately. One of them labeled “Corentine Stewart”.

 _So,_ Tony mused, _she has a last name now._

Tony clicked on the file, but it was encrypted. He sighed. 

“Hey, Friday, could you work on this for a minute? I’m going to get some coffee. Might be here all night,”

“Of course, sir. But Ms. Pepper has told me to remind you that it is your turn to make dinner tonight,” Oh, Tony forgot about that. 

“Remind me at six to go upstairs and start dinner,” 

“Of course, Boss,” 

Tony nodded as Friday started to decrypt the file. Chances were, he would have to step in at some point, but for now, he wanted some coffee. 

When Tony got back from his coffee run, Friday had made the smallest of dents in with the decryption. He waited about 10 more minutes, but then Friday stopped to remind him to go make dinner. 

“Keep at it, and alert me if anything happens, okay?” 

“Sure, Boss,” Friday said before starting again. 

Tony walked up the stairs to the penthouse kitchen. He put a pot of water on the stove, along with another pot which he poured the premade spaghetti sauce into. He pulled a bag of meatballs he and Pepper had made the last time they had spaghetti from the freezer and put them in with the sauce.

He was no chef, but he could make dinner by himself if most of it was premade. 

While he waited for the water to boil so he could pour the spaghetti noodles in, Tony got on his StarkPad and helped Friday decrypt a little bit. The water boiled and Tony poured the noodles in. 

At that exact moment, Pepper made her entrance. She walked out of the elevator, pulling her heels off and setting them by the door. 

“Smells good!” she commented, walking into the kitchen, “Are you using the meatballs we made last time?”

“Yeah,” Tony said, slightly distracted by the decryption, but he quickly turned off his tablet and turned to his fiancee. 

“How was work?” he asked, after he gave her a quick kiss. 

“It was okay. What are you working on?” she asked. 

“Decrypting some files with Friday. Because Cori gave me her name, I can search through some files of the dropped Hydra servers and try to get a little more information on her,” 

“And that will help her how?” 

“If she wants to get pardoned, it would probably be good to know what she’s done.”

Pepper nodded.

“Makes since. Your sauce is boiling,”

Tony turned frantically back to the sauce, stirring it so it wouldn’t burn. He turned down the heat on the sauce and checked to see if the noodles were ready. When he saw that they were, he turned back to Pepper.

“Dinner, my lady, is served,” he said with a smile, passing her a plate. 

“Thank you, Tony,” she said, “It’s a pleasure,”

Tony laughed. He could have dinner with Pepper, get a good night’s sleep, and hopefully be well rested come morning so he could either help Friday decrypt more of the file or read what it had to offer. 

Unfortunately, that was not so.

Three in the morning found Tony unable to sleep, down in the lab, working with Friday.

He tried to sleep, he truly did, but nightmares of the fight in Siberia plagued him, waking him up and leaving him unable to sleep for the rest of the night. Tony sipped his coffee, and turned back to his screen. Hydra had some skilled computer technicians. 

After hours, at six in the morning, as the sun began to rise over the Manhattan skyline, Tony finally opened the files. 

The file was not what Tony expected it to be. It was short with barely any information. 

“ _Name: Corentine Lyndon Stewart_

_Date of Birth: May 7, 2004_

_Parents:_ _Damon Stewart_ _(Deceased 2004),_ _Isabeau Stewart_ _née Beaumont_ _(Deceased 2004)_

 _Siblings:_ _Kendra Ara Stewart_ _(Deceased 2013),_ _Tarin Piera Stewart_ _(Deceased 2007),_ _Adara Cadance Stewart_ _(Deceased 2011),_ _Maxim Peter Stewart_ _(Deceased 2016)_

_Mission Report_

_Experimentation_

_Abilities: Air control, enhanced metabolism, enhanced hearing, enhanced strength_

_Applications:_ _Inhibitor_ _located on nape of neck_

_Distinguishing features_ _”_

Tony pressed the mission report, but it was again encrypted. Tony groaned. Even he couldn’t focus that long. Besides, they were going to move Cori into her room today and there were still preparations to make. 

Looking up at Cori’s file, Tony again realized that this would be a long process. Even if he presented all evidence he had against Hydra, she would probably still be deep down loyal to them. Even if he proved that how badly they had hurt her, she would probably still call it her home. 

Tony sighed and took a sip of his long forgotten, now cold coffee.

This would be a long road, and apparently he had to be there every step of the way. He just hoped the work he put in for Cori wouldn’t be in vain. 


	16. Chapter Fourteen

When I woke up again, I was really in the softest thing I had ever felt. 

It was warm and heavy, comforting me in ways I couldn’t explain. I felt safe and protected by the warm mass laying above me, whatever it was. I didn’t even open my eyes straight away like I always did when I woke up. I just layed there, appreciating the warmth. 

But what if someone caught me? What if they knew I was awake, even if my eyes were closed? My breathing must have changed as soon as I woke up. I immediately started to scramble up. I was already going to be punished so badly, I didn’t need to be punished more. 

I was supposed to be getting out. If all went to plan, I should already be out. I should be back at Hydra. But this obviously wasn’t Hydra. It was too warm and comfortable. 

I thought back to my actions. Slitting my wrists was a stupid idea. I felt the bandages wrapping my forearms. I was tempted to take them off, but I didn’t want to see what lay under them. I wasn’t quite ready to face the fact that I did that to myself, messing up the whole mission.

In my efforts to sit up, I only got myself more tangled in all of the blankets and whatever was above me. It was heavy and hard to lift off myself. 

“Cori, I think you should lay down,” Suddenly, my attention was brought to the other person in the room, the one I never noticed before. The man was none other than Tony Stark. 

“Why did you call me that? Why are you here? Were you watching me sleep?” I asked, not letting him speak before putting out another question. 

“You told me your name the last time we talked. You were a bit high,” Mr. Stark said, putting his hands up in surrender. 

I groaned. Of course high-me had told him everything, including my name.

“I’m going to get in huge trouble for that,” 

“No you aren’t,” Mr. Stark said firmly, “because I won’t let the people at Hydra do anything you anymore,”

I stared at him. How was he going to accomplish that feat? If I didn’t go to them, Hydra would come to me. There was no way he could protect me from that. 

The pause extended for a few moments, until Mr. Stark broke the silence by answering my other questions.

“I was here to make sure you didn’t hurt yourself when you woke up, and no, I was not watching you sleep. I was looking at my phone,” I narrowed my eyes. 

“How will I know you are not lying?”

“Is this going to become routine? You’ve asked me that same question almost every time we’ve spoken. I would not lie to you,” Mr. Stark said, before lowering himself back into his chair. 

I nodded, and pushed off the warm blankets. Immediately a cold rush of air hit me, causing me to shiver. I threw my legs over the side of the large bed and tried to stand up.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Mr. Stark said before I could stand though. 

“Why not?” The man shrugged. 

“Even with your enhanced metabolism and quicker healing, you still lost a lot of blood and had to get a transfusion. I was told to not let you stand up for at least an hour after you woke up. It’s also the reason why you are probably cold. So, if I were you, I would get back under the covers and stay put for at least an hour,”

I glared at Mr. Stark. 

“What if someone catches me,” I said, muting the microphones from my question. 

“The cameras in this room are only accessible by certain people I trust. Myself, my fiance and CEO Pepper Potts, my good friend and Head of Security Happy Hogan, and Rhodey. Friday is the one who runs the system, so you don’t have to worry about being watched by Hydra,”

I lowered my blocks. 

“Thank you,” I whispered, but Mr. Stark seemed to hear anyway. 

“It was already installed, so it was no problem whatsoever. But you’re welcome kid,” 

It was silent for a minute, but I had another question for the man.

“But what if someone tried to hack the cameras?” 

“I doubt anyone could get past the amounts of encryption I have set up on Friday, but if they do, I have a failsafe built into her. It would bring down the mainframe, sure, and delete all the footage, data, and other things stored inside this building. You’re safe, even if the situation wouldn’t be ideal for everyone else. It’s why we have paper copies of anything that can go on paper,” the man laughed slightly, even though what he said wasn’t funny. 

But his statement had calmed me down. I was safe in this room. No one at Hydra could come through the intercom in the middle of the night, asking me how my mission was going or give me any more demands. I was put at ease. 

All the work I had put into my mission was gone, however, left in my cell. Maybe I wasn’t dead now, but I almost certainly would be by the time I got back, considering if I wasn’t killed before then. I shuddered at the thought. I didn’t even know what day it was. 

“How many days has it been since I, you know,” I said sheepishly. I hoped he would answer my question. 

“Two. But you aren’t doing any missions, I will see to it.”

I had less than six days to scrounge up a plan and put it to work, no matter what Mr. Stark said. I would complete my mission and get back to Hydra if it killed me. My days were already numbered. 

But I was calmer than I was when I first woke up, so I guess that was a start. I slid back onto the bed and pulled a blanket over my lap. It didn’t make me any warmer, but it did seem to satisfy Mr. Stark, who gave a nod. 

The silence continued on for several minutes. I fingered the edge of the thick blanket, trying to think of something to say. Luckily, Mr. Stark started to talk before I had to. 

“Did I ever tell you about my intern?” he started off, sitting up in his chair. 

“No?” I said, “What’s an intern?” 

“Someone who works under me. His name is Peter, he helps me in the lab. He is extremely smart. He’s been working on projects at the level of some of the top biologists here at Stark Industries. He lives here in the city with his aunt and goes to a school called Midtown High School, which is one of the top high schools here in New York. 

“He’s a really good kid. Very nice and polite. He is a hard worker and tries to make everyone happy. He likes to stand up for the people who can’t stand up for themselves. Generally, he’s a well rounded person,” 

Why was he telling me this again? This was a very strange way to start a conversation. Maybe he was just trying to fill up the silence, apparently with his intern. 

“The reason I’m telling you this,” Mr. Stark said, finally explaining what the whole point was, “Is because Peter is just a couple of years older than you, and I was wondering if you wanted to meet him. See a kid outside of Hydra for a change? He could tell you all about his school and friends, and, um, stuff that he likes. Legos, Star Wars,”

I stared at him. He was asking me what I wanted? That had never happened before. It was always “Do this” or “Do that”. No one had ever asked for my permission before. This was a totally new experience and I didn’t know how to react. So I just sat in silence and considered my options. 

I didn’t know what would happen if I said no, but if I said yes, I would get to meet this Peter, which actually didn’t sound so bad. Mr. Stark started looking at me expectantly. He was waiting, so decided it was about time to answer his question. 

“Could I meet Peter?” I asked quietly, but Mr. Stark still heard me. He immediately smiled. 

“Yes. He really wanted to meet you when I first told him about you,” someone wanted to meet me? That was a strange feeling. 

After a couple minutes of Tony filling me in on all that would happen, when Peter would come, and what Peter had done in the past, none of which I listened to, Mr. Stark got up and exited the room, calling behind him not to get up until he came back with a meal. Apparently, I had woken up very late in the morning, but I wasn’t hungry. 

As soon as the door to my new, bigger cell shut, I braved the cold air and jumped up from my bed. 

The air was cold and my vision flashed with black spots, but I still stood. I took a couple steps along the bedside without hanging onto anything or falling, so it was as good of a time as any to walk around my new cell.   
This cell, disguised as a room but I knew it was a cell, was a lot bigger than the last one I was in. Still, I was locked in with no means of escape.

“Mr. Stark kindly asks you to return to your bed,” a female voice with a scottish accent spoke from the ceiling, causing me to jump. 

“I’m doing just fine,” I said, before continuing to explore my new cell. There were a few chairs littered around an open floor area, and along the right wall there was a large nightstand-like piece of furniture with clothing in it’s drawers. In the corner of the left and front walls, there was a sizable wooden desk with a lamp perched on top. I checked the drawers of the desk, finding a large stack of blue-lined paper and multiple pencils and pens. There were a few bookshelves lining the room, but there were barely any books on them, and the ones that were placed there I didn’t bother to read the titles. 

The bathroom was also larger. The shower had a tub bottom like it did in the other cell, but taller. The sink had a counter with drawers and cabinets that held washcloths and towels. I thought of a shower and how nice it would feel, but then I remembered that I wasn’t supposed to be up and about, and I had bandages that I didn’t want to remove. I wasn’t eager to see the sight of my wrists. 

A part of me was disgusted by what I had done to myself, attempting to kill myself, but another part was disgusted with myself for not succeeding. I had killed so many people, some no doubt innocent. And I was forced to kill my siblings. And mutants, when I myself could be considered a mutant. 

I leaned against the bathroom counter, trying to calm myself down as I found it hard to breathe. I was confused and torn, not knowing what was right and wrong and where I fell between them. On one hand, I was loyal to Hydra and wanted to do anything to please them, but on the other, they had made me do things that I never wanted to do if I knew what I was doing them. I had seen the world from under a veil for years and as soon as I caught a glimpse of the world without it, I wanted the veil back on. I wanted to be shielded from knowing all the wrong doings I had committed. 

Knowing I had to put on a straight face to go back in the main part of the cell was even harder. Anyone could walk in, so I had to be prepared. I couldn’t show anything. 

I set my face straight and walked back into the main room and sat on the bed. I pulled up a blanket and sat for about 10 minutes before Mr. Stark re-entered the room with a plate and a glass of water. 

“I thought I told you not to get up,” he sighed. 

“I thought you knew that I wouldn’t do anything you asked me to do,” I retorted, grabbing the plate and glass from his hand. 

“Just because I knew you wouldn’t listen to me doesn’t mean that I can’t ask for it,” The man said, sighing as he sat in a chair.

“Is that what you do when you get old? Sigh when you move?” I said. It was an honest question, but it seemed to sort of offend Mr. Stark.

“Did you just call me old?” he asked, offended, but his eyes held amusement. 

“It was an honest question!” I said, biting into the sandwich so I didn’t have to speak anymore. It was much easier to have someone else have all the conversation. 

Mr. Stark looked at me curiously before answering. 

“Yes, it is part of getting older. I am not saying anything past that,” Mr. Stark said. The two of us sat in silence for a minute while I ate the rest of my sandwich. Mr. Stark was looking at a thin glowing rectangular shaped box. I bit into the apple I was given before asking him another question. 

“Why did you ask me if I wanted to meet Peter? Why didn’t you just bring him in?”

Mr. Stark looked up from the box again. 

“Because it wouldn’t be fair to you if you didn’t want to meet him. You deserved to be asked,”

I stared at him. 

“People normally ask other people what they want,” Mr. Stark supplied, “A lot of the time, here at least, you don’t do things you don’t really want to do. And if you don’t do it, you might get in trouble a little bit, but generally it isn’t that much of a big deal,”

That was so much different. That was so strange. I almost didn’t like it. Did people expect to have choices if they were outside Hydra?

I finished my meal quickly, and Mr. Stark offered to take the plate before he left the room. I took the opportunity to stand again and walk around, looking for any loose wires, but there were obviously none. Mr. Stark probably saw that those were taken care of. I groaned. 

I would have nothing to show. 

Why am I still playing this game? I could go free.

But I could never go free. Hydra would always be following me and I would always be looking over my shoulder. 

I couldn’t leave. I couldn’t escape. 


	17. Chapter 15

It was a Saturday and Peter had decided that he wanted to spend some time with Ned instead of patrolling. It seemed the two friends hadn’t gotten to hang out together ever since Peter became Spider-Man and started working with Mr. Stark on Fridays. 

Peter was in the middle of attaching a lego to the Death Star when his phone rang, catching him off guard, almost making him drop the piece he was holding. He looked at the call ID and quickly picked up. 

“Hi Mr. Stark!” Peter said enthusiastically, his face breaking into a wide smile automatically as he stood up, “Has something happened? Do you need me? I can be at the Tower-”

“It’s okay, kid, calm down. Nothing happened,” Mr. Stark said, cutting him off. 

“So, why are you calling me,” he said, glancing at Ned, who looked a mix between excited and confused, “I mean, not to be rude or anything but you never call me unless it’s something important,” Peter seriously hoped this wasn’t another Germany situation. Sure, that had been cool fighting with and against the Avengers, but he wasn’t really eager to do it again.

“You know the girl that broke into the Tower a few weeks ago? You wanted to meet her.” Mr. Stark said.

Peter paused a minute, watching as Ned asked silently what was happening. Peter had told Ned about the girl, but he was still slightly confused. 

“I mean, yes,” he answered. 

“Would you like to meet her?” 

Peter’s jaw dropped, along with Ned’s. 

‘That’s so cool’ Ned mouthed. Peter nodded but asked another question.

“But I thought you said-” Peter started to say, but Mr. Stark cut him off once again.

“Forget what I said. Would you like to meet her?”

“Yeah,” Peter said, a little sheepishly. Ned sat on his bed, freaking out, “That would kind of be really cool,” 

“Nice. I’ll pick you up from school Friday, and you can come meet her. Bring your web shooters,” like Peter didn’t bring them everywhere, “Is that good kid?” 

“Yeah, um, that’s really good. Thanks Mr. Stark!” Peter said, low key freaking out with Ned. 

“Anytime kid. And it’s Tony,” 

“Okay Mr. Sta- Tony. Thank you!”

“You’re welcome. See you Friday,”

“See you Friday, Mr. Stark,” Peter said, before hanging up.

After Mr. Stark hung up, Peter glanced at Ned. Both of them of them were trying not to hold back shouts of excitement.

“Dude, what even is your life?!” Ned said, jumping up from his bed. He didn’t give Peter a chance to answer his question before he started speaking again however. “But will you be attacked or something? Because if you die, I won’t have anyone to build legos with, and I can’t be your guy in the chair, and both know that would suck,”

“Yeah, it would suck to die I guess. But I doubt Mr. Stark would offer if it wasn’t safe. I mean, I asked a couple weeks ago and he said no, like right away. So, I think it would be okay. I’m going to bring my web shooters anyway like Mr. Stark said, you know, just in case,” 

“Yeah that’s probably a good idea,”

Their conversation died off as they went back to building the Death Star, leaving Peter to contemplate just  _ how  _ crazy his life was. He was Spider-Man, he had met the Avengers (well, sort of), and interned under freaking Tony Stark. 

Peter must have been extremely lucky for once. 

A couple hours later, after it had grown dark, Peter got a text from May asking him to come home for dinner and any homework he hadn’t finished yet. He quickly packed up his bag and slipped on his mask and web shooters.

“See you, Ned. May wants me to finish my homework before dinner,” 

“See you Monday! I should probably get my homework done too,”

With that, Peter waved and swung out the window, making his way back to his apartment to finish homework, anticipating Friday before the school week even began.

Friday cameslowly. The school days seemed to stretch to twice their normal length, which was extremely annoying to Peter, but at least he got to patrol at the end of the day. 

Eventually, after much groaning and homework, Friday rolled around. 

“Don’t get killed,” Ned said as they walked out of the school on Friday, “I still need my best friend,”

“I won’t die, Ned. I’m sure it will be perfectly safe. Besides, Mr. Stark will be there,” Peter said, looking out over the parking lot, trying to spot Mr. Stark’s car. 

“Okay, Peter. See you Monday then,” 

“See you Monday Ned!” Peter called as Ned walked to his mom’s car.

Peter’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out and read the text. It was from Mr. Stark.

“ _ I see you. Very back right corner,”  _ Peter looked up and spotted a very fancy looking black car. He started walking over to it, avoiding cars and students alike. He was extremely thankful Mr. Stark had decided to park in the back though. While many students (and not to mention teachers) didn’t believe that Peter had an internship with Mr. Stark, he didn’t want to cause a riot or rumors if anyone did notice that Tony Stark was picking up a random kid from a high school. 

Peter slid into the passenger seat, throwing his backpack on the floor.

“Hey, kid,”

“Hi Mr. Stark,”

“How was school?” the older man asked. Peter was surprised with how domestic it almost sounded, but then again, it wasn’t everyday Iron Man, who also happened to be Peter’s mentor/father-figure, picked up a random kid from school. Honestly, their whole relationship was strange. 

“My day was good, but the week lasted too long,” 

“I hear you on that kid,” Mr. Stark said with a sigh. After a couple minutes of silence, Peter pulled out his weekend homework (his english teacher must hate him) and started to work on it. By the time they got to the Tower, spending the ride mostly in comfortable silence, Peter was about half finished.

When they rode up in the Tower’s personal elevator, Mr. Stark started to fill Peter in on the situation. 

“Her name’s Cori and she’s twelve. She had a bit of what you would call a tortured past and she’s a bit unsure right now. She also recently attempted suicide, so she has scars along her wrists. I know your really polite and will do this already, but try to avoid the subject,”

“Wait, she attempted suicide?” Mr. Stark looked down at Peter as they stepped out of the elevator onto the correct floor. 

“She did. But in her defense, her life so far has been truly awful. I just want you to go in there, talk about some high school stuff, and just get to know her. She likes to build things, so I made this,” Mr. Stark held out a small basket he picked up off the counter. It was filled with wires and other odds and ends, including a few screwdrivers. Peter took it from the older man’s hands.

“She shouldn’t be able to make anything that could help her get out with this, and if she did manage to figure something out, all the parts don't work. Do you have your web shooters?” Peter nodded and held them up for Mr. Stark to see. Mr. Stark nodded. 

“I’m not saying you’re going to need them, but you might. Just make sure they are deactivated so she can’t see them. If you need anything, just ask Friday or walk out the door. She can’t follow you out the door,” 

“It sounds like you’re letting me go see a nuke or something, with all these rules I mean,”

“Well,” the older man said quietly, “she can kill you all the same. Best to be safe. You ready Kid?” 

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Peter said. To be honest, he was a little worried. 

“Okay,” Tony threw his arm over Peter’s shoulders and opened the door to Cori’s room. 

Inside wasn’t much. The room was well lit, but it was noticeably blank compared to Peter’s room at the Tower (Peter still found it so cool that he had his own room in the Tower), which Peter probably should have expected. The only thing that was off was the girl floating above her bed. There was a bit of a blank look in her eye but it disappeared as soon as she floated down, spotting Mr. Stark and Peter, but Peter was still surprised. Mr. Stark didn’t tell him that Cori had powers. It was kind of cool to not be the only superpowered teen here. 

“Cori. This is Peter,”

Cori just stared at Peter and looked him up and down with her almost unnaturally light grey eyes. Her short dark hair only just growing was frizzy and looked like it needed a comb, but it didn’t look like she had been in a room all by herself for the past month. 

“Hi,” Peter said. 

“Hi,” Cori said.

Mr. Stark glanced between the two of them, as if he was hoping they would initiate conversation at some point during this interaction. Peter hoped so too, otherwise this would get really awkward. 

“So, um, I have parts,” Peter said, showing the basket to her, “We can try to build something if you want,”

Peter watched as Cori’s eyes lit up at the sight of the basket of parts. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. At least they had something in common. 

She looked back up at Peter.

“Okay,” she said. Peter smiled and sat down on the ground. Cori followed him to the floor and Peter put the basket of parts between them. 

“I’m going to leave,” Mr. Stark said, pointing to the door. “If you need anything, just call.” Peter nodded.

“Okay. Thanks Mr. Stark,” 

“Anytime,” the man said, shutting the door behind him. Peter turned back to Cori, who had already taken a few parts out of the basket and started building.

“What are you making?” Peter asked, looking at the jumble of parts in her hands. There seemed to be no beginning or end to the parts, it was just all one bundle of parts and bad circuit boards.

“Not sure yet,” was all Cori said before going back to building. 

As Peter picked up one of the many circuit boards from the basket, he noticed that there was nothing about the circuit board that would indicate it was faulty. Of course, if Cori decided to test something out, the faulty thing might backfire, but Peter didn’t try to think about that. 

They built in silence for a couple of minutes. Peter tried to scavenge the good pieces that Cori hadn’t taken yet. 

“So, what are you making?” Cori asked. It was an afterthought, but she asked anyway, even if she was engrossed in her ball of wires that hadn’t yet taken any shape.

“I’m not sure either,” it was true. Peter was connecting wires to a broken circuit board with no clue what he was doing or how he could make it work in any way. There were no lightbulbs or batteries, so he couldn’t make a simple circuit like he did in middle school, and with the parts he had now, he couldn’t make a complex circuit that worked.

This was just a load of acting really. Acting like the circuit boards were working, acting like he knew what he was doing. 

“You know,” Cori said, causing Peter to startle, “The circuit boards are broken. Or fake. Very good fakes, but either way they don’t work. The wires don’t work either.”

“H-how did you know that?” Peter asked. She wasn’t supposed to know.

“Well, I just tried to laser your head off, and it’s still there. That’s a pretty good indicator.” The girl replied, like she hadn’t just tried to kill him.

“You tried to laser my head off?!” Peter exclaimed.

“Yes, but I knew it wouldn’t work anyway. It also wouldn’t be strong enough to kill you, just leave a mild burn on the middle of your forehead. It also didn’t work, and I never get my lasers wrong, so yes. The circuit boards and wires don’t work,”

“I could have just told you that the circuit boards were fake. You know that right? You didn’t have to attempt to laser my head off,” Peter said. The thing about the wires was news to him, but he guessed Mr. Stark might have wanted to mess with him, see if he would notice.

“You didn’t say anything about the circuit boards, and, like I told you, it wouldn’t be strong enough to kill you,” Cori shrugged, “Besides, I need to ask you some questions, so it would be better if you were alive,” the two fell into a silence before she spoke again,    
“I also don’t want to kill you, if that makes you feel any better,”

“Okay,” Peter said, setting down his jumble of wires, watching as Cori did the same, “What did you want to ask me about?” 

Cori squirmed a little, apparently getting comfortable on the floor. Peter noticed the couple of chairs littering the room. He got up and pulled two over, sitting in one. Cori stared up at him. Peter gestured to the chair across from him. She glanced at him, a question in her eyes, before getting up and sitting back down in the chair. She folded her legs under her before she started to speak. 

“Mr. Stark told me all about you. How you are really smart and nice, the list goes on. He asked me if I wanted you to come here. I was wondering why he didn’t just bring you here; it was kind of strange for him to ask. But he also said that I should ask you what kids my age do,” the words sounded awkward, like she wasn’t used to saying them.

“You want to know what kids our age do?” Peter asked, just to clarify. All of the words coming out of her mouth had sounded like she wasn’t used to them, or maybe not used to talking in this situation. And the whole “Mr. Stark asked me if I wanted you to come” thing was a little weird.

Cori nodded. Peter took a deep breath before he started. 

“Well, most people our age go to school. Most of the time it's a big building with tons of people and rooms in it. My school has a little over a thousand people, so I guess that’s kind of big. I’m a sophomore right now, which is my second year in high-school. You would be in middle school if we went by your age, but you would probably move up a couple grades.

“But anyway, you have different classes and teachers. Most of the teachers give you homework, which is like schoolwork, but you do it at home. I mean, it’s pretty self-explanatory,” Peter looked up, sure that he had lost Cori’s interest, but she seemed enraptured by what Peter had to say. Peter cleared his throat before starting again.

“But most high schoolers, and people in general really, have friends. It’s like people you like to be around and do stuff with. I have a best friend, his name’s Ned, and I’ve known him since middle school. I like to build legos with him and watch this movie series called Star Wars. If I come again, I’m going to bring a lego set,”

Cori laughed. 

“Okay,”

“But I also have this other friend. Her name is MJ. I think you would like her a lot. You too are similar I think. She’s kinda dark and quiet, but she can be really cool,”

_ That is if I can talk to her _ , Peter thought. He hoped she couldn’t read minds. 

“Here I can show you a picture of them,” Peter said, whipping out his phone. Cori looked down at the phone with curiosity while Peter quickly pulled up a picture. Peter held out his phone and Cori studied the picture. 

“Did your phone take that? Mr. Stark told me what it was, but he wouldn't let me touch it,” 

“Yeah, my phone took that. You can hold my phone if you want,” Peter said, turning on one of the only games his phone had, Subway Surfers. Sure, it was kind of lame, but Peter had a really high score and he didn’t want to let that go. 

Cori took the phone carefully in her hands, almost like it would break if she made any sudden moves. The sudden music from the game scared her. 

“What is this thing? He just waved at me!” She said surprised. She looked at Peter frantically, “Can he see me?” she whispered. 

“No! It’s a game, Cori. Press on the screen,” she did as Peter said, startling when the screen started to move. She turned the phone on it’s side and then Peter heard the sound of her crashing into something. Cori handed the phone back to Peter.

“What was that for? What’s it supposed to accomplish?” Cori asked. 

“It’s supposed to entertain you or keep you from not getting bored. A lot of kids our ages have phones. There’s also this thing called social media, but I don’t feel like getting into all the details about that. It’s a bit of a strange thing,” 

There was a minute of silence before Peter started to speak again. 

“And a lot of kids our age do sports. I can’t do any, but I can show you some. If you don’t mind if I use my phone again?” Cori nodded, so Peter pulled up a video clip of a basketball game. 

“See, you take the ball and try to put it in that basket on either end of the court,” Peter said, pointing out the different features as miniature players ran around the court, chasing a tiny ball. Cori didn’t take her eyes off it for a second. 

As soon as the clip ended, she looked up at Peter. 

“Why do people do sports?” she asked.

“For fun, I guess. Some do it to stay active. I had asthma when I was younger, so I never got the chance to do any sports,”

“What’s asthma?”

“It’s a thing with your lungs that makes it hard to breathe. I had an inhaler, which helped, but I still had a hard time breathing when I did sports or ran around,”

Cori nodded. 

“But I do this thing called Academic Decathlon. It’s where you answer questions about certain things. I’m good at the math, science, and chemistry portion of the questions. There are people who read the questions out to you and you try to answer them in five seconds. But there’s also an essay portion and speech portion. It’s a little complicated to understand, but I do it with Ned and MJ, so it’s really fun. Our team is really good, so we win. This year we won the national championships, so that was really cool,”

“What happens if you lose?” 

“You are disappointed and study better next time,” Cori looked at Peter like he was insane. 

“That’s all?” she seemed almost disappointed in his answer.

“Yup, that’s all,”

“That’s a little boring,” 

“What else were you thinking would happen?” Peter said with a breathy laugh. 

Cori shrugged, smiling a little. 

“I don’t know. Something different,” 

They sat in silence for a minute before Cori asked Peter another question. 

“So how do you have multiple teachers. And how does homework work? What do you do?” 

Peter smiled and began to answer the questions as fast as Cori was asking them.

After about two hours of talking, Peter bid his goodbyes to Cori, taking the basket of odds and ends with him, along with their unfinished projects that never would have worked anyway. Mr. Stark was standing outside the door with a small smile on his face. 

“So, how’d it go?” The man said as the two walked to the elevator and stepped inside.

“Like you weren’t watching the whole time,” Peter said, smiling.

“You got me there kid,” Mr. Stark said, putting his hands up in mock surrender. 

“It was good though. She had a lot of questions about high school. I showed her a video of basketball and she seemed to really like it. She was also very confused about my phone,”

“Makes sense. Want to order pizza and watch a movie or two?” that was odd. Usually he and Mr. Stark worked in the lab until Peter had to go. The elevator landed on Mr. Stark's penthouse floor. 

“No lab time?” Peter asked.

“Well, it’s almost six and I considered you would be a bit worn out after teaching our resident psychopath about the life of a regular high schooler,”

“I doubt I could be considered a regular high schooler, Mr. Stark,” Peter said.

“Is that agreement for pizza I hear, or will I have to send you home to your poor aunt early?” Mr. Stark teased.

“Of course, Mr. Stark,” Peter said.

“Nice save Pete,” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was GROSS but at least Peter and Cori met, right?


	18. Chapter Sixteen

As soon as Peter left, my smile fell and I turned around and face planted into the bed that was far too big and warm. I groaned into the bedding, hoping that no one came back to listen to me.

I had so much hope when it came to the parts. I thought I could smuggle something, maybe even all of it. The circuit boards were a bright spot, but they were fake. Instead of getting out without leaving anything behind and with limited evidence except for the fact that I was gone, I would have to pry myself out of here and steal something to collect the information I required. 

The only good thing in this whole operation was that I smuggled a single screwdriver that wouldn’t be missed from the basket. 

I sighed, looking over at the small clock on the bedside table. It read 5:42, in the evening I was sure. I would just have to wait for the right time. For now, I would have to examine certain ways I could escape by simply using my powers and a flimsy screwdriver. 

The deadline was tomorrow after all, and I didn’t want to know what awaited me if I failed my mission. I shuddered at the thought of walking up to Doctor Galley empty handed. 

But I shook my head, trying to dispel those thoughts. I hated to say it, but I had to be positive. I was plenty resourceful, and had most definitely gotten myself out of worse situations than this mostly unscathed. I just had to be confident. 

Although, looking down at my only way out, my chances weren’t looking good. 

I looked around the room. There wasn’t much in the way to escape out of. There was only a door and a couple of vents. The vents could probably work. The opening looked big enough to fit through, and from my previous escapade in the vents, they were more than spacious. 

So I could go through there. I sighed. 

It wasn’t a good plan, but it was the best one I had. 

~~~

It was nearing eleven in the evening when Tony woke up from a light and uncomfortable sleep. The popcorn bowl rested in his hands, empty. Unfortunate, Peter would probably be hungry by the time he woke up, with his enhanced metabolism and all, and the fact that he was a teenager to boot.

Tony’s neck had a painful crick in it. He tried to roll it out, but the more pressing matter was that his left leg slowly was going numb from the weight on it.

Peter was stretched over Tony, his head on Tony’s chest, fast asleep. The older man ruffled the boy’s curls fondly. It was almost domestic. Tony was surprised by the thought. 

Tony watched for a couple more minutes as The Revenge of the Sith wrapped up. As soon as the credits started to play, Tony shook Peter awake. The teen blinked, bleary eyed, looking up at Tony, then the TV, which was playing the classic Star Wars theme music. 

“I missed it?” Peter asked, sitting up and stretching. Tony’ left leg was extremely grateful.

“I’m afraid so kid. I fell asleep too,” Tony admitted, setting the empty popcorn bowl on the coffee table. 

He was just about to suggest getting Peter home at a reasonable time when his phone began buzzing on the coffee table. He glanced over at the name, making sure that he couldn’t just let it ring out. Unfortunately, it was Ross, again. The man seemed to have no boundaries for times to call. 

Tony glanced over at Peter, who was also looking at the name on the phone. The teen just shrugged, before picking up the popcorn bowl and walking to the kitchen. Tony sighed and picked up the phone. 

“I could have been asleep you know,” Tony said. He really didn’t want to deal with this right now. 

“But you weren’t. Sorry this is a late call, if it makes any difference to you,” Ross said. Tony snorted. 

“It doesn’t. Why are you calling at this hour anyway?” 

“I wanted to know the progress of the girl,” Tony pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“You know I have office hours for these types of questions, right?” Tony said.

“Just answer the damn question Stark,” Ross said, sighing. It was obvious both men were worn out and tired of each other, but because of the current situation, neither of them could get out. 

“A week ago she made an attempt on her life. It didn’t succeed and as soon as she was stable, I had her moved to a larger, safer cell. I believe she feels safer now that she knows she can’t be watched by Hydra, but she’s a mystery. I had my personal intern, Peter, who is a couple of years older than her, go in and talk to her today,” Tony saw Peter perk up at his name being mentioned, “It went well,” Peter nodded in earnest and Tony smiled at his enthusiasm, “In other information, I now know her name. Corentine Stewart, but she prefers to be called Cori,” 

Ross was silent for a minute. Tony could hear a quiet scuffle behind the line, but didn’t think anything of it. 

“You said she attempted suicide. How quickly did she recover?” 

“Considering she lost about 35% of her blood, pretty quickly. She had a transfusion and was up on her feet after around 36 hours,”

“And did you do any additional searching in regards to her name?”

“Yes. She’s the daughter of Daren and Isabeau Stewart, the two scientists that went missing in 2003,”

“Yes, I remember them. Good people. It’s a shame they died,” for that matter, Ross truly did seem sympathetic. 

“Well, Cori was born in 2004 as one of five,” 

The line went silent for a moment. 

“That’s awful,” Ross said. 

Tony hummed his agreement. 

“I’m coming over at eight am tomorrow to see her. Please be ready. Sorry for such late notice,”

“You couldn’t move it back so I could give her a heads up?”

“Unfortunately, no. I need all the information I can get on that girl. Could you send the files on her to me?” 

“Yes. There might be an encryption, but I can have Friday help you with that if it shows up,” Tony could hear Ross opening a door, then closing it. While it wasn’t necessary, it was nice to know that Ross was on the move.

“Thank you Stark. Eight sharp, don’t forget,”

“I don’t think I could,” Tony said before hanging up on the man. He leaned back into the couch and sighed loudly. The amount of grey hair he would have after this would far exceed the one’s Peter gave him everyday as he went around doing who knows what as Spider-Man. 

Tony looked over to the kitchen, where it seemed Peter had washed the bowl and put it away in a cabinet before grabbing an apple. Tony could see the question behind Peter’s eyes, but the kid was far too polite to ask it. 

“That was Ross asking about Cori,” Tony explained. 

“What does he have to do with Cori?” Peter said before taking another bite of his apple.

“Just about everything. He’s the Secretary of State and endorsed the Sokovia Accords. He basically wants all the information he can get on Cori to make sure she’s not a threat, and probably plans on using some questionably strategies to get said information,”

“But isn’t she actually kind of a threat?” 

“Yes, but she’s still a kid. I think she can be rehabilitated and put into normal society rather than be stuck in the Raft for the rest of her life,” Peter nodded.

“Makes sense. She was actually really cool to hang out with, even if she didn’t know anything about… well, anything,” Peter grinned. 

Tony walked over to the kitchen counter and leaned on it. 

“Shouldn’t we be getting you back to your aunt? It’s almost 11,” Tony said, glancing at the clock above the oven.

Peter looked over to the clock as well before sighing. 

“Probably. I can just swing back,” Peter said before grabbing his backpack discarded in one of the other kitchen chairs. 

“Nonsense kid. I’m getting Happy to take you home,” Tony said, whipping out his phone once more. 

“Mr. Stark, you really don’t have to do that. I can just swing home! It’ll be okay. I’ll get there faster anyway,” 

“It’s okay, Pete. It’s late and you just fell asleep on my couch. You need rest, you’re a growing teenager. What you should be doing right now is telling your Aunt May that Happy is driving you home and you’ll be there soon,” Peter looked like he was going to protest, but a single look from Tony shut his mouth and had him texting May almost immediately. 

As for Tony, he was having a bit more trouble. 

_Can’t he just swing home? It’s late Tony._ Happy texted. 

_He’s tired. He just fell asleep on my couch. Plus, he texted his aunt that you are taking him home._

_You know I’m not your chauffeur anymore, right?_

_I know that, I’m just asking you a favor._

After a few minutes of back and forth, Happy conceded, saying he would be ready to go in fifteen minutes. Meanwhile, Peter gave a large yawn, even though Tony was sure he had stayed out later than 11 patrolling as the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. Maybe it was just the movie or the fact that Tony’s couch was far too comfortable. 

Tony rode down in the elevator with Peter to the garage where a grumpy Happy was waiting. 

“This is a one time thing, I hope you know,” Happy said. He looked tired, and though he was dressed professionally most of the way, he was wearing house slippers. 

“I like your shoes,” Tony said with a laugh, “And you say that everytime,” 

“I mean it this time. I don’t like being called at 11 and you telling me I have to take a kid home. I was sleeping,” 

“That I don’t believe,” Happy rolled his eyes and climbed in the car. Peter, who had been standing awkwardly throughout the whole interaction, followed suit. 

“Goodnight kid. See you next Friday,” 

“Goodnight Mr. Stark. See you!” Peter said, before closing the door. Tony watched as Happy’s car left the garage before making his way toward the elevator again. 

Pepper might disapprove of his plan, but she was in London right now for business. He needed to work on a few things before he went to sleep, and if that took the whole night, Pepper didn’t need to know. 

Tony sighed. He had a long night ahead of him. 

“Friday, brew a pot of coffee in the lab please,” 

“Of course, Boss,” 

~~~

When my clock said 12:30, I rose from the bed, ready to break out of this place. I had been awake the whole night, though Friday couldn’t see that. I leveled out my vitals and closed my eyes, but never fell asleep. 

Screwdriver in hand, cameras still displaying my sleeping body, I floated to the wide vent opening, fog clouding a portion of my vision. Who designed the vents to be this big anyway? Why would you need vents big enough to fit an average full grown man anyway? Whatever the reason, I still had to be thankful that they were this way. Otherwise, I might not be able to make my escape, 

I started by trying to take out the screws attaching the panel to the ceiling. When it turned out I had the wrong screwdriver for that job and my clunky cuffs were getting in the way, I tried using my powers, but I couldn’t keep myself in the air if I did that, and the ceiling wasn’t in range if I tried on the floor. 

In the end, I took off the panel by sticking the tip of the screwdriver under the panel and using it as a lever. Sure it took a lot of time, and the screwdriver broke by the end, but I got it loose enough to where I could undo the rest of the screws with my hands. 

Once I set the panel on the floor. I tried to go through the opening, but I was only met by an orange, crisscrossing force field that appeared as soon as my cuff touched it and a small shock. I tried again with the other cuff, but it was the same. I tried pushing both my cuffs in at a time, harder and harder with each attempt, but in the end I was left fruitless on the floor with nasty, stinging burns along my wrists. 

I was going to fail. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My chapters can never really decide whether they want to be indented or not here. Hope that doesn't annoy you!


	19. Chapter Seventeen

I woke up early the next day to the small beeping of an alarm clock. I glanced over at it, the small digital print reading 7:00. I didn’t want to get up, even though it was later than normal. Besides, I had a reason I needed to get up and not wallow in self pity the whole day. I had to look presentable for when I was ultimately collected by Hydra for failing my mission.

I stumbled into the bathroom, giving myself a once over in the mirror before getting in the shower. I had dark bags under my eyes, testament to the past few sleepless nights. I had spent almost all last night tossing and turning, going to sleep when the clock read five. The other nights had only been marginally better. I had never known sleep worse than this. 

I took a long time in the shower. As soon as I discovered I was allowed to turn the showers warm (or when Friday turned the shower warm for me, insisting I don’t freeze to death), I did it with pleasure. It was nice to be warm, and I knew the luxury was fleeting, so I was making the most of it. 

I was out of the shower soon and dressed in the darkest, nicest clothes I could find in the drawers of what I later learned was called a dresser. Though the clothes happened to be a dark green long sleeve t-shirt and a pair of jeans, I felt better, safer. It was almost like the clothes were my armor. 

After I was ready, my extremely short, yet unruly hair brushed into submission, I sat on the bed facing the door, so they would find me feining unafraid. It was almost eight in the morning, and breakfast would be arriving soon, 8:30 on the dot. If anything, I had a long time to wait. They would probably come to collect me once Stark Industries had closed so to not make a scene. 

But as the minutes inched by, I found myself becoming anxious. I started scratching at my recently healed wrists, twisting my fingers under my bulky cuffs, hoping to find a scab to pick at, but all that was there was faintly raised, sensitive skin and pink lines that indicated my treason. I wished I had died then. Maybe then I wouldn’t have to worry about what awaited me back at Hydra.

I sighed. Why was I so nervous? 

The minutes inched closer to breakfast; it was 8:15. My stomach growled. Looks like something I would have to get used to, next to cold showers, was eating two limited meals a day, or at least limited by the likes of which I had been eating for the past couple of weeks. 

At 8:30 the door opened, for breakfast I hoped. I did happen to be rather hungry. There was a person behind the door, or several people. I could hear them before they stepped inside. 

From the door stepped a man. He was imposing, with perfect posture, dressed prestienely in a gray suit to match his gray hair. This was the man from my memory. I met his eye, but flinched away as he stepped closer, pulling up a chair about 10 feet in front of me. 

“Hello,” Ross said, “My name is Thaddeus Ross. I am the Secretary of State for the United States of America. I just need to ask you a couple of questions,”

Ross smiled, but it seemed fake. Almost painful. I nodded.

Ross started to speak again, talking to the gaggle of guards that had followed him into the room. 

“Spread out.” he spoke gruffly before turning back to Cori. The men did as they were told. 

“So I understand that you are enhanced. Enhanced metabolism, healing, and senses?” he said. I nodded. There was no way to deny that. There were blood records and my cuts had already scarred over. 

“But I also understand you have other abilities. Some, the ones who have survived the encounter at least, have said flight. Can you confirm or deny that?” I didn’t move. I didn’t speak. There was no way I could give anymore information away. I had already given too much, but there was minimal record of it. I could just neither confirm nor deny the fact that I had or had not floated. 

“Floated” was a little broad. Controlled air particles and ions telepathically was a little more spot on. 

I tried to remember that this was all most likely a front, and that Ross would take me back to Hydra instead of the Raft, but the longer the conversation and Ross’ curiouslity continued, the less sure I became. 

Ross rose from his chair, standing over me. He beckoned me to stand as well, and seeing no other alternative, because refusal was out of the question, I stood. I met his eye, which had grown weary with age.

“I have ways of making you talk, and I am sure that you won’t like any of them. If you don’t hand me information, I legally have to send you to the Raft. And I do not like putting minors on the Raft. It is not a good experience, trust me,” Ross said quietly, threateningly. 

I stared up at him, trying to look unafraid. If he didn’t work for Hydra, he would bring me to the Raft, and that almost sounded worse than forgetting all of what I remembered or dying. 

Suddenly, Ross stepped back, his posture straightening almost unnaturally. His face displayed his discomfort as he reached to touch his back before faltering and bringing his hand back down to his side. 

I knew the stance. A gun was being pointed at him. He was being threatened.

“Blind the cameras,” he said, his voice strained. I obeyed him, except for one camera that I kept open. 

Suddenly, a hand flew out behind Ross, slamming the butt of a gun into his head. Ross’ body slumped to the floor, unmoving. 

There was a man standing behind Ross. His skin was pale and his hair was red, a combination I hadn’t seen in a long time. He was tall and skinny, and his long coat, weighed down with what were no doubt weapons, only seemed to make him look skinnier. He looked almost kind in appearance, but his smile gave it all away.

It was more like a smirk, like he knew how everything was going to play out for everyone and had taken the winning bets. His eyes sparked with dark mirth, almost like he had watched the world burn and enjoyed it.

“Don’t worry, he’s not dead,” the man said, his voice deep and disturbing. 

I stared at him. I had never seen this man before. But he must be Hydra, and he must be influential within it, because as he waved his hand, all the guards pulled out guns, and all of them were trained on me. 

He looked me up and down, like he was making sure I was up to standard. I felt naked under his gaze, like he could see through my every lie and secret, all the events and people I wasn’t supposed to remember. I shuddered. The man smiled wider, more insane if he could manage it. 

“Scared, are we?” I stared him in the eye, trying to show I didn’t fear him, but I was lying. He could feel it. 

“I won’t bother telling you my name, not that you would live long to tell anyone,” The man said. He started to walk around me, almost taunting me. My eyes followed him, but as I tried to move my feet, the guards cocked their guns.

The man held his hand up, shushing them, before turning back to me. 

“You see, I wouldn’t do that. I ordered them to shoot if you made any move against me. It wouldn’t be a pretty death. And this small little device would only make it more painful,” He waved his arm, a tiny remote in his hand. The remote that connected to my neck piece. I restrained a shudder. 

“No, I ordered them to shoot so that you would die painfully. But, if I’m correct, I don’t think this is the first time you tried at a bloody death,”

I knew that Hydra was aware I tried at suicide, but somehow it still surprised me that this man decided to bring it up.

“Suicide. Messy, messy death. I can’t believe you even cut deep enough to actually lose blood. You have advanced healing after all, among other things. But don’t worry. I’ll be sure you die properly this time,” the man gave a short bark of a laugh. 

“You don’t know my name, but I certainly know yours. Corentine Stewart. You hated the name. So long and boring, giving tribute to two failures of scientists. It was better if you didn’t remember it. There was no identity to tie you to, no parents, no siblings, even though you had them. If you didn’t have a name there would be nothing to remember.”

I looked down at Ross, though it was unintentional. 

“Have a question, don’t we? I’m all ears,” And odd saying to say the least, but I answered him.

“Where does Ross come into all this,” My voice sounded weak and childish after he spoke. The man laughed again.

“Before I answer that question, I’m going to ask you to blind all the cameras in this room. You’re eyes aren’t as distanced as they should be, don’t think I haven’t noticed,” He had noticed. How?

I blinded the last camera. It was better than dying. 

“That’s better. Now let me tell you a secret,” He leaned so close to my face that our noses were almost touching. When he spoke, his breath smelled like the ocean and blood, rotting fish, decaying plastic, and iron. It almost made me gag, but I held it in with pure spite.

“He never was a part of it,” the man laughed in my face, holding my chin so I couldn’t turn away from his toxic breath. 

“Did you hear that?” the man let go of my chin and turned back to his men, “Ross was never a part of it,” He stalked back over to me and growled, “I planted those memories in your head. He was never there. He was only a pawn. He had so much power in his hand, it would be almost a shame not to abuse it. A mutant hater, teaming with Hydra to kill mutants!” the man cackled, “Imagine the scandal,” 

“But he-” I said. 

The man slapped me hard across my cheek. I could already feel the welt forming. I reached up to touch my cheek, shock setting in, but he grabbed my wrist and pulled it down to my side.

“That was for speaking out of turn. Has your little vacation made you forget your manners Corentine?” The way this man said my name gave me no questions as to why I hated my name. He said it as if I was a curse, a dirty word that should belong in no one’s mouth. I saw him finger the remote in his other hand. He wanted to use it, no doubt. To make me suffer.

“Maybe your Agent and Doctor have been too soft? Maybe, once this is over I’ll have to kill them too?” As much as they had tormented me, they had still raised me. But I couldn’t mourn them if I was dead. 

In the corner of my eye, I could see Ross stirring. The Man must have noticed, because he kicked him in the head, successfully knocking him out again. He pointed a gun he pulled out of his coat at Ross’ head. I could clearly see that the gun was on safety, but with this Man, I didn’t feel any safer. 

“I wonder if I should kill him as well? He was getting rather annoying. But then again, the amount of power he holds could be useful other in other situations than this,” The Man pulled back his gun, hiding it in his long coat. 

“You see, I am the head of Hydra. The ultimate mastermind. And yet, I was only made aware of the existence of you and your siblings when you had been alive for three years. THREE YEARS!” The Man roared, causing me to flinch, “I had whoever was associated with you and your kin killed, and it was only my luck your parents were already dead. I had my Soldiers. I didn’t need you,” The Man was angry, energy pulsating off him in dangerous, unstable waves that seemed to rock the whole room. He turned back to me, his smile wide, fangs bared ready to rip me apart. 

“I told them to kill you all, disgracefully enhanced for pleasure and experiment, with Hydra as a second priority. But they disobeyed me, having you kill the weakest one at a time. Sending you on missions, missions that my Soldiers could have completed in a heartbeat. But then my only Soldier in action abandoned the greater good, and suddenly you became an alternative. Far more successful, less looked at than my Soldiers, and genius to boot. Your weapon plans single handedly saved Hydra. You became perfect,” 

“And look where that has gotten you now. Siblingless, doubting. You only have Hydra, but you thought you knew best. You abandoned us, just like the Winter Soldier. You are a TRAITOR!” He screeched. 

I stepped back, and the guards raised their guns in sync. This man was insane.

“So, for your last mission,” The Man leaned forward, whispering in my ear, “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t kill you,” 

I kept quiet. I had no reason. I had no explanation. I was better dead. 

“Nothing?” The Man whispered, “Nothing at all?” I shook my head, and willed tears to not well in my eyes. I couldn’t be shamed anymore. 

“Good,” The Man pulled another gun out of the depths of his coat, pointing it at my chest. He did say I would die slowly, painfully. I wondered if he would keep his promise, or kill me quickly to spite those who hadn’t done it already. To get the last laugh. 

“Any last words?” The Man asked. I looked him in the eye.

“Last questions. Did you steal my plans? Did I set the explosions?” 

“Yes,” The Man whispered. I closed my eyes, expecting a loud bang as the gun went off. When it did, though, I felt no pain. I only opened my eyes when shots started to be fired repeatedly, and groans of the dying filled the room. 

The door was open. 10 or so men from Stark Industries Security lay on the floor, dead or dying. And in the middle of all the chaos stood a blood-spattered, spitting-angry Tony Stark. 

“Friday, get medical,” Mr. Stark said before The Man interrupted him. 

“Now, Mr. Stark. I don’t think that will be necessary,” I watched as The Man nodded. Most of his guards began sifting through the blood bath, searching for those still alive and putting them out of their misery. Two of the guards held Mr. Stark, expertly locating his hidden armour and throwing it across the room. After all, without the armour, Tony Stark was just a man. 

Mr. Stark struggled in the guards' iron grip. 

“Those men have families,” he growled to The Man, seething.

“I don’t know their families,” The Man said coldly, “Someone will have to tell them,” 

Mr. Stark attempted to lunge out of the guard's grip, but they were just too strong. 

“Bastard!” Mr. Stark yelled, spitting in The Man’s face. I couldn’t blame him, but The Man’s gun was still trained at my chest. I didn’t dare move. 

“Now, now Mr. Stark. There’s no need to use that language. Some tame words would do better. Perhaps,” The Man turned back to me and I knew my fate.

“Five,” my limbs froze, snapping into my standard position, waiting for the next command. 

“Hold him still,” The Man ordered the guards, who were struggling to hold Mr. Stark back. One guard, a tall one, put his gun away and circled behind Mr. Stark and trapped him in a choke hold. I watched as Mr. Stark began to rasp his words, before stopping after only one, choosing instead to fumble at the arm that kept him from breathing. 

“Hope,” The Man said, a deadly smile gracing his lips. My posture went looser, the first word being but a punishment, made to make me listen. 

“Now, Corentine,” The Man said, lowering the gun. I thought I was in the clear, but he decided not. A bang brought pain that almost forced me to my knees. It wouldn’t have been a really big deal if I wasn’t acutely aware of the situation. I had been shot in the gut, but I wouldn’t die; not right now at least. My hands moved to force pressure, but The Man reached down, forcing my hands back to my sides. 

“Now, we can’t have any of that. It’s my favorite gun after all,” The Man said, holding out the gun for me to grab. I could shoot him, I could shoot him right here. I could kill him and be done with it. 

But even if I did, I wouldn’t last long, and neither would Mr. Stark. The agents would shoot us before we could move at all. I couldn’t kill The Man, I was completely trapped. 

“Aftermath,” The Man spoke casually. I felt my thoughts slipping away, being replaced by a white smoke that covered the corners of my vision that were not invaded by the fog that kept the cameras blinded. 

The cameras. I could let go of the cameras. I did, but I let The Man see my clouded eyes. Two could deceive. 

“Now, take the gun,” I did as I was told, not letting my focus slip from the illusion. I had to keep this. I had to. 

“And shoot Mr. Stark,” No. I couldn’t do that.

I was going to do something. I was going to regret it. But I was thankful I had the mind to keep up practice on my powers through all the monotone days.

“Mr. Stark, don’t react,” I said, only letting The Man and the agents hear silence on my part. The air waves were hard to block, resulting in my letting go on the illusion around my eyes. Fog clouded my vision, it was surely enough for the Man to think I was still blocking the cameras. 

I may be betrying Hydra, but I didn’t want my words to be said. There was no coming back from that. 

I cast up another block around Mr. Stark, making his expressions and actions unseen by anyone in the room. I shot a man on Mr. Stark’s right in the middle of the forehead. He fell to the floor with a thump. No one heard. 

I had limited time until The Man said the next word. I picked off about three more agents around the room before The Man spoke again. 

“I don’t have all day! Shoot him! Dedicate!” The Man yelled. The Man’s loud voice hurt my ears, but I continued, killing the last two agents in the room that were not holding back Mr. Stark. It was exhausting, making and keeping all the blocks up so that no one would see the dead bodies littered around the room. It was an absolute bloodbath, Hydra agents fallen among Stark Security, their blood mixing on the floor. 

Of course, no one but me could see. I picked off the agent who had Mr. Stark in a choke hold, allowing him to breathe again. I lifted my gun to get the last two when The Man spoke again. 

“I should do this myself, it would be much easier. But I’ve never done this, it would be nice to finish. Complete,”

The fog washed over my vision. I could see nothing but shadows through it. I shot at what I hoped was the last two agents. I hit home, I didn’t hear any bullets ricocheting through the room. I just hoped I hadn’t killed Mr. Stark. 

I turned to The Man, not that he saw any of that. To him, the only blood that was spilled was that of Stark Security. I took the opportunity to shoot him in the stomach, then his shoulder, hoping he would die soon enough. 

I heard an anguished wail and curse, most likely from The Man. I couldn’t hold the illusion any longer. Doing so was a violation of my words. I couldn’t continue. I let all of it fall away, exposing Mr. Stark and The Man to my blood bath.

“Behave,” The Man whispered, but loud enough for me to hear. I sank to the floor, my legs folded beneath me. I heard another yell, but it was quickly snuffed out by a loud thump.

I couldn’t see anything. I could hear what was going on, but I couldn’t see anything; my eyesight was completely white. I couldn’t see shadows or anything noticeable. It was all fuzzy and nice.

The next word would come to clear this all up. I was sure of it. The longer I was there, the more I didn’t like this state. It was strange. I couldn’t see who was alive or dead and the deeper I sank in, I realized I couldn’t hear what was being said. There was mumbling, but I couldn’t hear words. 

I wanted the next word to come. 

But it never did. 


	20. Part Three: The Camaraderie

I was born a weapon

They forged me of iron

I walked into the fire

Emerged a stronger woman

But your gentle warmth

It slowly melted my soul

And I’m afraid to tell you

For I can’t confess you made me whole

**I Am The Storm**

**Part Three**

**The Camaraderie**

**11/7/20**


	21. Chapter Eighteen

There were broken bodies strewn on the floor, and Tony himself was spattered with blood, but he couldn’t find himself to care about that.

All of these men, these good men, they all had families, friends, lives outside of his stupid, stupid company. He had dragged them here and they had paid the price. Somehow, the job that was considered less dangerous than the police displayed the same causuities. 

Tony tripped over the bodies to make his way to Cori, after he had kicked the head of the asshole that shot her and said what Tony assumed were “her words”. The whole topic was a bit murky for Tony. 

Tony got on his knees, sitting across from Cori, who was kneeling. The bullet hole in her gut was slowly leaking blood, and Tony looked around to make sure there wasn’t an exit wound. When he saw there wasn’t he scrambled back over to his armor and earpiece that had been thrown to the side. 

“Friday, get medical here immediately.” Tony said, his voice still raspy from his air supply being cut off. He cleared his throat.

“Of course Boss. I will alert them of the casualties as well?” Tony sighed. 

“It would be better if they weren’t surprised. Tell them Cori has a bullet wound as well, no exit wound.” Tony said, before turning his attention back to Cori, pressing on her wound to try and stem the blood flow. She was pale and limp. Tony gently lifted her head from its hanging position on her chest, which could not have been comfortable. 

Her eyes were unseeing, the pupils blown wide and clouded, almost like she was blind, but Tony knew better.

“Cori, can you hear me? Medical is coming and they will help you. You’ve scared me a lot today, you know that? And it’s not even nine on a Saturday morning,” a groan rose from behind Tony, and he turned to look. 

Ross was stirring, clutching his head before sitting up. His eyes darted over to the Hydra Ass, as Tony had deemed him. It wasn’t like he heard him share his name, if the man did at all. He was a mystery that Tony hoped they wouldn’t let get away. 

Ross’ suit was splattered with blood, much like Tony’s. 

“What happened Stark?” Ross said, obviously trying to be firm, but his voice was shaking slightly. 

“I honestly have no clue,” 

Medical arrived a couple of minutes later, gaping at the amount of gore in the room even though they had been told of it. Eventually, most of them cleared the room, but not before loading Cori onto a stretcher and checking Ross. A few stayed behind to check the bodies, trying and failing to find anyone alive except for the man responsible for this mess. Tony told them not to bother trying to patch him up, but they loaded him on a stretcher as well and whisked him out of the room anyway. Tony continued to kneel on the floor, holding his hands soaked in a child’s blood out in front of him. Though he was an atheist, the position begged the need to pray. Tony was stubborn and resisted the urge. 

Tony got up, trying not to touch anything with his hands. He made his way over to the bathroom and washed his hands in the sink. The blood turned the water a dark pink. 

He had just watched men die and could do nothing to stop it. And now a child was at risk and the man who had caused all this wasn’t dead. Tony resisted the urge to sigh. He had been doing that far too much as of late. He was beginning to sound like a tired old man. 

But the event reminded him of Afghanistan, and just like that Tony regretted every single thought that led to this moment. But, this time, instead of sand under his fingernails and sweat that coated every part of his body, there was blood, all of it blood. The trauma, however, was real. 

Tony took deep breaths. He had to get out of this bathroom. They were going to question Ross soon and as soon as that Man woke up and was pretty well healed up, they were going to interrogate him as well. 

Tony hoped they used better means of force to interrogate him. Hurting him for all the pain he had caused didn’t sound so bad at this point. He made his way out of the room, calling Pepper.

“Pep,” Tony said as she picked up, relieved. 

“Tony, what happened?” Tony heard the shuffling of paper, but Pepper’s voice was frantic. She must have heard that something had happened.

“Hydra. Cori was shot, Ross is probably concussed, and the man who ran the whole operation is in medical for multiple nonsevere bullet wounds,” Tony ran down the list, “And I’m going to need to call families,” Tony said, sighing. He sank down on a stool nearby, not wanting to get any blood on fabric chairs. 

“You brought some Security?” Tony nodded, but then realized she couldn’t see it.

“Yeah. Cori also killed several Hydra agents to save me,” 

Pepper sighed over the phone. She seemed tired.

“Please tell me that’s the last people that will be killed in this Tower for the rest of the year,” Pepper said Tony thought her hope would be an optimistic dream if he got a hold of that man. That man would be dead before he could speak a word. He insituted this whole event and everything that had been happening for the past month, from the mission that brought Cori here to the murder in cold blood that had just taken place. 

“I can’t promise that Pep,” Tony said, his head in his hand. 

“Don’t kill that man. I know you’re probably thinking about it,” Tony scoffed. 

“I’m going to go talk to Ross. I think he has a bit more information,” Tony said, getting up from the chair, “I’m also going to change,”

“Okay,” she said before awkwardly saying, “Does takeout sound good tonight?” what he had said must have been hard to follow up. 

“Anything sounds good,” Tony said, stepping into the elevator. Friday moved the elevator upward, conscious of what Tony wanted. 

“Good. We can talk about where we want to order later. Try not to kill anyone,”

“No promises,” Tony said with a weak smile, stepping of the elevator, “Love you,”

“Love you too. See you tonight,” with that, Pepper hung up. 

Tony sighed before quickly running into his and Pepper’s room and changing into clean clothes, throwing the soiled clothes in the trash. It wasn’t like he couldn’t pay for any of the clothes that got ruined, and those were beyond saving. 

He then hopped back onto the elevator and told Friday to go down to the interrogation floors. He had a sudden sense of deja vu, but he shook that thought out of his head. 

Though Ross’ questioning was informal, it still had to be recorded and sent to be filed and probably the government, which reminded Tony.

“Friday, can you send the single camera footage to S.H.I.E.L.D., or what remains of it. Fury I guess. And to Ross’ computer,”

“Will do, Boss,” 

“Thanks Fri,”

Ross’ questioning was more of a testimony. He wasn’t cuffed to anything and he wasn't a threat. There was a table between him and the man questioning him. They were talking over lunch.

“So, have you collaborated with Hydra before?” the man asked. Tony tried and failed to remember his name.

“Unless you count collaborating with S.H.I.E.L.D., no, not before this,” Ross put his fork down and leaned back in the chair. 

“They came to my house in the evening. Or really, just the one man in charge. He never told me his name, but outright told me he was Hydra and would do anything in his power to hurt me or my family if I didn’t obey. He threatened my daughter and her family.” Ross sighed, before continuing, “For a while, nothing happened. Then about a month ago, the girl, or Cori as she requests to be called, broke in here. I was told to get information and report it back to them. I couldn’t tell anyone or Betty would be killed.”

So that was Ross’ constant calls and stressing over information about Cori. He just wanted to protect his family. It made sense, and almost made Tony pity Ross, but then he remembered the manhunt for Bruce and the Sokovia Accords (and the amended version he still needed to read). Tony doubted anyone could change that much from the point where Ross came, but then again, Tony himself could be used as evidence to disprove that.

Ross went on for a little longer, talking about how the Man had contacted him, and what information he had demanded. Tony didn’t listen as closely; he could always ask Friday to replay the footage if he needed it and besides, he would probably need to replay it several times anyway. 

Therefore, Tony figured it wasn’t the end of the world if he messed around on his phone, texting Pepper, working on some code for a new update for the Kid’s AI, which he had apparently taken to calling Karen. Tony breathed a laugh just thinking about it. Peter could make friends with almost anyone, including an AI that he technically wasn’t supposed to have. Tony let him keep her, even after the whole homecoming fiasco. It was nice to have another layer of security when it came to Peter. Although, it would be nicer if the AI wouldn’t let Peter do certain things, such as go above a certain height. That way there would be no repeat of what Peter had called “The Plane Fight”.

Tony typed a few more things into his phone, which was a little harder because phone keyboards were small and annoying, but Tony could make do. Then he got a notification from Friday, including a video. 

Tony clicked on it, the small thumbnail too dark for him to see anything other than the vague form of a human being. The video opened up, and Tony saw the man from Hydra sitting inside a cell. He apparently wasn’t fatally injured, because he only had his arm in a sling and was sitting upright. He glared at the camera in the corner of the cell, which was rather dark and dingy for anything in his building, the walls slate grey with only a bench for decoration.

Suddenly, the camera went dark, but only for about 10 seconds. However, when the cell was shown again, the Man was gone, leaving only a small slip of paper in his place. Tony groaned. There was no getting around it; Hydra had another mole in Stark Industries, possibly dozens or even hundreds. Tony doubted any amount of digging could clear them all. Friday pulled up another notification, this time displaying a picture of the note. 

“I will be in touch,” the note said in loopy, but readable cursive. Tony growled, slamming his hand on the table in front of him, making the others listening to the interview jump. 

“Sorry,” Tony said, sliding his chair back loudly as he got up, “I have to get back to work”

And indeed he did. He had to find this man and make sure he was never heard from again. 


	22. Chapter Nineteen

It had been a few days since Hydra came to Stark Industries and there had been no change. None, whatsoever. Tony hadn’t made any progress with finding the Man that had gotten everyone into this mess. Cori was still stuck in a trance like state, white mist clouding her vision as far as Tony could tell. The good thing for her was that her bullet wound was almost fully healed, astonishing pretty much everyone except Tony. 

Tony was exhausted. He had spent the past few nights in the lab, working on nothing in particular. He just wanted to keep awake. He had consumed enough caffeine to kill an elephant, but Tony refused to move from his stress induced whatever he was doing. Honestly, he probably should have been out of the lab hours ago. He couldn’t see straight, but nobody had come to collect him yet, so he stayed at work. 

Somehow meals were appearing as well, even though he never saw who brought them. Either way, Tony didn’t touch them, too busy doing nothing in particular. 

At some point, he must have fallen asleep out of pure exhaustion, because when he woke up he was in his bed. 

With a clear head, Tony was actually able to think about how to fix Cori’s problem; the mind one, not the bullet hole. Although it was a solution, it didn’t mean that he would like it. He certainly wouldn’t like it at all.

As Tony opened his nightstand drawer, he tried to keep the images of the fight in Siberia out of his head. It wouldn’t help anyone now if he freaked out over a fight that very well could have ended with him dead at the hands of someone who used to be a friend. Tony also tried not to think of the irony; how the fight related to the dreadful scene he watched before it, his father being killed by someone he thought was a friend.

But still, Tony reached for the sorely outdated flip phone, pressing its ancient buttons to find the only number saved on it.

The phone rang a few times, during which Tony muttered as many curses as he could fit. Steve Rogers picked up quickly, however. 

“Tony,” Steve sounded almost relieved, “What’s happening,” 

“It’s nothing to do with you Rogers. Are you with Maximoff?” 

“Yes. Why?” 

“Could you kindly hand the phone to her?” Tony said, almost as if he was asking a child to do something. 

“Why do you need to talk to her?” Steve insisted.

“I don’t owe you any explanation Rogers. Let me talk to her,” 

Tony heard Steve sigh before the phone rattled a little as it was handed over.

“Stark,” Tony could hear the displeasure from Wanda. He hoped Wanda’s apparent hate for him would be overcome by the ability to help someone who was in somewhat of the same position she herself had been in at one point.   
“Maximoff,” Tony said, letting a little bit of relief slip into his voice. He was lucky she was still in the same place as the other Rogue Avengers, as the media had been calling them. He could honestly care less what they were called. 

“What do you want,” Wanda sighed. Even though the phone distorted her voice, Tony could tell that she sounded tired.

“I need your help. I have a girl at Stark Tower who was an assassin for Hydra. A man came in the other day and used her words on her, and she’s stuck in between them. Apparently there was one more. I was just wondering-”

“You expect me to come and help you after all you put me through?” Wanda sounded disgusted.

“You wouldn’t be helping me. She’s twelve, almost thirteen, and has lost everything to Hydra. She was one of their “Assets”, I want to give her a second chance. And she can’t get a second chance if she is still under the influence of her words,” 

Wanda sighed before going quiet for a minute. Tony could hear faint voices in the background. No doubt she was discussing it with whoever was with her. 

Probably Rogers, Tony thought.

But soon enough, Wanda spoke again. 

“I can be there in a couple of hours.” 

“Thank you,” 

“But you have to get me cleared of all charges,” considering his lawyers, which were some of the best in the country, that probably wouldn’t be hard to handle. 

“If it’s just you, consider it done,” 

“I’ll be there,” Wanda said, before hanging up.

Tony sighed, thankful that at least something had worked out. Then he threw the phone back inside the drawer, hoping he wouldn’t have to see it again anytime soon. 

He had preparations to make. 

Wanda hung up with a sigh. Steve, Natasha, and Sam stared at her, all of them seemed to be asking what to do next. The quinjet they had taken hidden at the far edge of their little camp, but Wanda didn’t know how to fly it, so she couldn’t go alone. 

Long story short, Wanda had no way of getting to Stark Tower without someone possibly getting arrested. She assumed Steve would fly it, but he might want to talk to Stark, which wouldn’t end well for anyone.

“I can’t believe we agreed to let you go,” Sam said, dragging his words, looking up at the leaky roof. They were somewhere in Europe, an isolated forest far away from any threats and certainly not where people could see them. It had just begun to rain. Water dripped on Wanda’s head, but she didn’t care. 

“I’m going back to the States, most likely permanently,” Wanda offered. Sam scoffed. 

“Do you really trust Stark? After he locked you up?” 

“No,” Wanda said softly, “But whoever this girl is, I want to help. I can decide if I want to trust Stark again later,”

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned about Tony,” Natasha said, “is that he never goes back on a promise,”

“I requested. He didn’t promise anything,” 

“Tony puts his promises loosely,” Steve said. Sam rolled his eyes, “but what we need to worry about right now is getting you on the quinjet and to the Tower.”

Wanda nodded, quickly gathering whatever clothes and belongings she had in a small bag. She put on a hat and a coat before nodding to Steve, who led the way out the door.

“See you around Wanda,” Natasha said, smiling. The expression was almost sad, but saying goodbye to a friend was sad. Wanda returned the smile. 

“Yeah, see you,” Sam said. Even though the man put off the impression that he didn’t care about Wanda, she knew he did. It was nearly impossible to not develop some sort of fondness for someone you had been on the run with for several months. 

“Hope to see you all soon,” Wanda said, before walking out of their makeshift home, towards the quinjet. Wanda took a deep breath, mentally preparing herself for the hours before her. She had a plane to New York to catch. 

The ride was only a few hours, but it felt much longer than it should have. Steve and Wanda did not speak as they flew through the sky, being caught up with other things in their own minds. 

Wanda hoped this wasn’t a trap, and as she looked over to Steve and his worried face, she wondered if he was thinking the same thing. Wanda didn’t want to go back to the Raft. But Stark had sounded urgent and his story had a ring of truth to it. Wanda just hoped he wouldn’t have her arrested on sight.

As they approached New York, Steve turned on stealth mode, allowing them to fly unseen and unable to show up on the radar screens of anyone. The only thing they had to worry about was air traffic to and from the city, but Wanda doubted that would be too awful. They had a small, maneuverable plane. They could just move out of the way. 

Soon, New York City appeared on the skyline outside of the front window. After a couple seconds, Wanda saw Stark Tower appear. She tried to calm the butterflies in her stomach as they made her approach, but her stomach seemed to turn despite the fact she knew it  _ should _ be okay. Wanda still slightly doubted Stark was telling the truth and would keep his word, however, so she had a valid reason to be nervous. 

They flew closer to the Tower and landed on the helicopter pad smoothly. Wanda stood up to grab her bag and then motioned to Steve to open the door for her to get out. He did as she told, ducking down in the seat in case anyone decided to look in. Wanda walked out of the quinjet warily. Steve didn’t walk out with her, which Wanda was thankful for despite the fact she felt too out in the open here. 

Just as Steve had closed up the ramp, Tony Stark walked out of the door leading to his penthouse, looking a little frantic and disheveled. She peered into his mind slightly, just to make sure he was telling the truth. A quick look at his intentions showed he was telling the truth. Wanda sighed, relieved.

As Stark walked closer on the pad, Steve started the quinjet’s engines and quickly took off, sending Wanda’s hair in a flurry of wind. As soon as she could see again, Stark was standing about six feet away from her. 

“Wanda,” Stark said, almost unsure.

“Stark,” Wanda said, biting her lip.

“Thank you for coming,” 

“I- thank you for offering me freedom,”

Stark laughed dryly, without humor. 

“You’ll have to convince the county to free you, but my lawyers can give you a good case. But first, you have to help me out,” Stark started walking toward the Tower, Wanda followed behind him.

It had been a while since Wanda had been there. During her small time as an official Avenger, she most often frequented the Compound, rarely ever stopping at the Tower. The times she had been at the Tower, however, had been loud and homey, and nicer than the Compound. 

Wanda had never been inside the Penthouse before, but it made the Compound look like a cardboard box, no matter how nice the Compound was. It was large and extravagant. Wanda spun around to take in all the sights. There was artwork on the walls and a couch that looked too fine to sit on. She was almost afraid to breathe in case she would break something.

Then, as Stark cleared his throat, she remembered what company she was in. Schooling her expression, she followed Stark to the elevator, riding down a few floors in silence. She glanced over at the man, but all she was able to get from his face alone was that he was worried, yet relieved. Wanda mentally shrugged. No one could fake emotions that well, not even Tony Stark. 

They got out a few floors below the Penthouse. It was still ridiculously extravagant, but less so. It was a little more subtle with a smaller couch and cool colors of blue and grey. Wanda thought she almost liked it better than the Penthouse. At least she felt like she could sit here without ruining anything. 

Stark led her down the single hallway on the floor and into the second door on the left. The first was blocked off with yellow police tape and as Wanda glanced inside she thought she could see the stain of blood on the hardwood. Wanda shook her head. Why would there be blood in a billionaire's Tower? 

The room Wanda walked into had a similar door as the first. It was large, bulky, and only activated by a key card. But unlike the first door with its’ blood stained floor and yellow police tape, this room had a girl in it. 

She was lying on the bed, her skin paler than it probably should have been against the white pillow. She was still and her breath came slow, but her eyes were wide open. Wanda walked closer. She looked sickly, connected to IV’s, feeding tubes up her nose. The girl was overwhelmingly young, and from this perspective she looked younger than almost 13.

“What is her name?” Wanda asked softly, inching closer until she was kneeling beside the bed. The bed was unnaturally large and dwarfed the girl, so she was positioned closer to the side.

“Cori,” Stark said. Wanda noticed the fond way the older man looked at Cori. What was his relation to her? Why did he care so much?

“And you said her words were used on her, but not all the way?” Stark nodded.

“It’s why her eyes are foggy. Apparently it also gets like that when she uses her powers,”

“Powers?”

“She can control atoms in the air, warm and cool them, use them to make other things or herself fly. She even made a small storm once, but she can’t do much at the same time, otherwise her vision will go all foggy. Her state could also be caused by overexerting herself,”

Wanda narrowed her eyes.

“How would she overexert herself?” 

Stark walked from the end of the bed to the side opposite Wanda and sat down. 

“Hydra came for her. They were going to have her kill me and then kill her. She used her powers to blind them to what was really happening, I think. She also blinded the cameras as well, all except one. But she had to block certain images, no doubt manipulating light so that they wouldn’t see. It would have been very hard to do one person, let alone 10 people at one time,”

Wanda glanced back at Cori, who looked peaceful except for her eyes, wide and staring into the infinite abyss beyond the ceiling of the room. She sighed. 

“The only way to get her out of this state is to remove one or more of the words and cleanse the memory of it. It’s tiring and may take a long time to find the memory in the first place, and even longer to cleanse a memory so strongly encoded in her brain,”

Stark nodded, looking a little grim. 

“Was she hurt?” Wanda asked. 

“She was shot in the stomach, but recovered pretty quickly. You almost can’t see the mark now,” Wanda let her eyes wander to Cori’s wrists, which were above the blanket over her. They were scarred with long, thin lines running down her forearm to the bulky cuffs on her wrists. She mentally shook herself and tried to promise the “sleeping” girl that she would avoid the memory at all costs. 

“I’m going to start. As I said, it could take a little, so if you want to leave, it’s perfectly fine,” 

Stark shook his head.

“I’ll stay. It’s not like I have anything better to do anyway,” He got up from the side of the bed and sat in one of the chairs nearby, where he could see what was happening. 

Wanda took a deep breath and prepared herself before delving into Cori’s memories. 

The first thing Wanda felt was emotion. Pure, burning emotion. Cori’s mind was complete chaos, tearing itself apart from the inside. Wanda had to push herself to not back out immediately. She had a job to do, she had to free this girl and gain her own freedom in return. 

Wanda pushed past the emotion, fiery red and sad blue represented in equal measure. There was yellow and purple and black. The emotions were all on the surface, which was more than she would expect from a Hydra assassin. 

The trek through Cori’s emotions took enough time in itself. Time was irrelevant inside the mind, so Wanda didn’t know if it had been hours, minutes, or seconds. 

Finally, Wanda broke through the barrier that was separating emotions from memories. 

The first thing she saw was hazy, but she could make out a woman behind a large desk. She was intimidating, with broad shoulders and a sour expression. She saw Cori standing in front of the desk, as stiff as the woman in front of her. 

This couldn’t have been more than a few weeks ago. Cori looked the same age, but her head was completely shaved in this memory. Wanda was thankful that she never had to do that; she quite liked her hair.

_ "Storm," _ the woman said, a sickly smile on her face, " _ I have a mission for you, _ " 

The woman slid over a file folder. Cori picked it up and read it.

If this was her receiving a mission, Wanda didn’t need it. She had to look for other things. Though, the name Storm struck a chord somewhere in her memory. The reason was on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn’t quite fathom it. 

Wanda got up from the memory and traveled elsewhere, trying to search for what she needed. She didn’t know the word, but it wouldn’t be on the surface. She would have to search the depths on Cori’s mind in order to find the memory she needed in order to free Cori. 

Wanda continued her search, coming up with dates, times, people’s names, and the disturbing things the girl had done to them. Or was forced to do to them. Wanda tried to sympathize because her situation was similar, but it was hard. The main difference between the two of them was that Wanda had a choice. It seemed Cori had been born into the word of spies and murder, fighting for her life. 

No sooner than Wanda thought that, though she probably should have kept her mind at the task at hand, she was transported to another memory. One that Wanda remembered clearly.

It was the day after she had gotten her powers. Wanda had been scared for her life and even though she wasn’t religious, she remembered praying to every god she could think of so that she would not die in the rotting hole with the worst people in the world. She had been panicked and in pain, and yet they still forced her into a large room with another person. There was a mat, but other than that, no protections should she fall. 

The other figure was short, and Wanda knew she was young even if she wore a mask. The figure stalked around her, Wanda turned her head to look. Unlike the other memories she had been in, for this one, she was fully herself, seeing it from her own point of view. 

Then the figure must have been Cori behind the mask. Wanda gaped at the realization. How could Cori be this person?

Cori spoke in Sokovian. The way she spoke was completely natural, but Wanda speculated that it was one of many languages Cori spoke. 

“ _ Before you go in the field to do noble work for Hydra, _ ” Cori spoke, “ _ You must learn to control your powers. If you can’t, then you could hurt yourself or another agent, _ ”

That struck a chord, what with Lisbon only a few months beforehand. It was as if Cori from the past was reprimanding her for her actions, even though she probably had no idea that Wanda did anything of that sort. 

Suddenly, the memory went black. She must have not remembered the rest, which was strange. Why would they feel the need to block that memory?

One thing was for sure however. That memory hadn’t been brought up by chance. Cori knew she was there, or recognized her presence. 

It was a bit unnerving really, that Cori was able to recognize Wanda after such a brief encounter that was years ago, but Wanda had seen stranger things. Instead of dwelling on it, she moved on and searched through more memories. 

Some memories she could discern where the words had not emerged, but others she had to watch more thoroughly. When she had done this with Bucky a little while ago, the memories surrounding the words were throwing into high definition, almost like they were shining. It was a bit strange, but Wanda liked it. It was easier to find and easier to know when the memory was clean and back to where a normal memory should be. 

As Wanda searched through more and more memories, she became increasingly disgusted by what she saw. There were missions that no one, especially a child should be forced to accomplish. Some looked close to suicide missions, yet Cori always seemed to worm her way out, judging by the fact that she was still alive and relatively well now. 

Wanda uncovered a few memories of Cori’s apparently late siblings. She had passed those, feeling that they were memories that contained much grief. She prefered not to know the more intimate things of a person’s life, though she was already in very deep with Cori, considering they had a few past connections. 

Finally, the memories started looking tainted. Wanda watched as the memories continually went back more and more. As it got closer to the word that was the problem, Wanda had to squint to even be able to make out what was happening in the memory. It was bright, but Wanda knew as soon as the light broke that was the word.

After what felt like hours of watching, because though Cori apparently didn’t remember much, she had very intricate memories, the light broke. Suddenly Wanda could see again. 

They were in a small, damp, concrete room that Wanda had seen many times throughout the search. It was more often that Cori was alone in the room, but this time there was a boy with her. Wanda had also seen this boy; he was a major point in her life apparently. He was apparently called M, but Wanda had never met him. He was taller than Cori, but looked the same age. All the times Wanda had seen him, he wore a small smirk, like he knew something everyone else didn’t. 

This time was different, however. Now he wore a deep frown. When he spoke, it was in a different language, one that Wanda didn’t know. Somehow, probably because Cori could understand the language, Wanda could make out the words that he was saying.

“ _ Tina, what’s wrong? You are not making any sense,”  _ The language was complicated and formal, and it seemed half the speaking was done with the hands instead of the mouth. 

“ _ I feel like I am missing something!”  _ Cori said in a quiet roar, throwing her hand in the air, “ _ Something is wrong and missing, and I don’t know what it is. But it’s gone and I don’t know what to think,” _

“ _ What are you suggesting?”  _ M said, his expression dark. 

Cori was quiet for a moment. 

“ _ We both have powers, yes?”  _ she said in a dangerously low whisper, eyes narrowed. M nodded. “ _ We are more powerful than anyone here. We could overpower them all. Why don’t we, _ ”

“ _ You are going to get yourself killed, _ ” M said, stepping closer to Cori and grabbing her wrist, but she twisted it free. 

“ _ No, I will not,”  _ Cori growled. Her eyes were wide and feral, “ _ I could bring down all of Hydra easily. I need to know why I am missing something.” _

Suddenly, the door swung open and a man Wanda had never seen before walked inside. He caused both of the children to flinch, and rightfully so. His entrance was sudden and he seemed a man that you would not want to mess with. 

The memory, which had been radiating anger now cast off waves upon waves of fear. Wanda saw the problem. 

She felt the anger and fear and stripped it away. The memory was now bare bones. There were no emotions associated with it. And, to make sure of her work, she watched the horrible memory before she was blocked from seeing the rest, by either memory or Cori’s intentions, and made sure to wipe it all. 

Cori wouldn’t have that word in her head ever again. Whatever the word was. Wanda mentally sighed. That had been long and tedious, but rewarding all the same. 

When Wanda lifted herself out of Cori’s mind, Cori’s eyes had closed and Stark was sitting on the bed once again.

Wanda was panting for breath. She swiped a piece of hair off her sweaty face. Though it hadn’t been the worst thing she had done as of late, it still sapped her energy.

“She shouldn’t even react to the word. I erased it completely from her head. There shouldn't be any lasting damage,” Wanda said, causing Stark to look up. 

“Thank you,” he said. Wanda nodded and got up off the floor. 

“Am I free to go?” Stark shrugged. 

“If you can make your way to the Compound unseen, then it would be safe for you to go there. Vision is there,” he supplied, “But it might be safer and more convenient for you to stay here for the time being. My lawyers need to talk to you in order to get your case together,” 

Wanda considered her options. Vision would be at the Compound, but the commute could put her in danger. Whereas if she stayed here she would have to put up with Stark. 

Stark seemed to think along the same lines as her. 

“I could give you a whole floor to stay on and tell Vision you’re here if you would like,” It wasn’t like she had any better option. 

“Which floor?” Wanda asked. 

“Two floors below this one,” Stark replied quickly, “Pretty standard. You get your own kitchen, living room, and a couple bedrooms,” Wanda nodded and began walking out. 

“Thank you,” she said softly, standing in the doorway

Stark gave a smile.

“You’re welcome,” he said before turning back to Cori and his phone. Wanda walked out the door and got in the elevator, clutching her bag. 

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all. She would get to see Viz and there was a chance she could be cleared from all charges in the next couple of months. She would just have to be around Stark from time to time. 

Wanda could do this, she was sure of it. For the first time in six months, it was going to be just fine. 


	23. Chapter Twenty

Someone was inside my head.

But not just anyone. I knew her, but I didn’t know her name. She was familiar, I felt it. I had met her before. Or had at least felt her presence before. 

Still, I didn’t want her in my head. I tried to get her out, not thinking about anything but keeping her out. I saw red at the edges of my cloudy vision, but it didn’t do much to keep her out. Soon she broke through my block and suddenly I was reliving memories. 

_"Storm,_ " the Doctor said softly, " _I have a mission for you_ ," I was looking to her once again, getting my mission from Doctor Galley. If I looked close enough, I could notice the glint in her eyes. It was almost sad, though she smiled as she handed me the file. My past hands reached for it and flipped it open, letting me see the photos of a dead woman. If I glanced to the right, I could see a shade surrounded by red energy.

It was her. The girl in the training room.

It had been years since I had last seen her, and now I couldn’t even recall memory without the girl guiding me through my own mind. I huffed, but heard no sound. 

The girl’s red energy disappeared and I was taken from this memory to others, some that I didn’t even remember before this moment. I saw people in their last moments, some not knowing what hit them and others being acutely aware. 

It made me sick to my stomach all over again. But I shouldn’t be feeling that way. The way I thought had changed so much and all of a sudden I was feeling sorry for these people. 

Why? Why did I feel bad about feeling sorry? I didn’t want to die. Not right now at least. Why would these people?

The thing I knew I didn’t want was this woman poking around in my head. I felt and saw every memory with her. Her shadow lurked in the background of every moment. I had to show her that I knew. 

I tried to think of her. The thing was, the only time I had seen her was the memory I couldn't recall. So instead I thought of her red energy and how much I wanted her to see herself. I could imagine her face in my mind, even though she was older now.

All of a sudden, I felt an ache in my head, no more acute than the headache I have had since she started poking around, but noticeable nonetheless. I opened my eyes to find myself in a training room, but it was different from the one I had trained in. It was smaller, but had a higher ceiling, and looked marginally cleaner. And one major detail. The girl was in front of me. 

I could see her past self, looking only a bit older than I was now, probably around Peter’s age. But there was a ring of scarlet energy that were not part of the memory previously. I heard myself speak, but didn’t bother paying attention to the words. I was thinking of another moment. 

It was a bit harder to picture; I could only remember the emotions surrounding it. Fear, sadness, anger. Why I had felt those things was beyond me, but it didn’t seem to work. 

I thought of a different memory, one a bit closer to the word. I closed my eyes, imagining black, trying to recall something specific. I brought her to a day in the training room with M. 

But she quickly moved on from that memory as well, which was good. The memory was boring anyway, just a sparring match between M and I. 

After a lot of boring memories, ones I had already seen before, getting missions, talking to certain people, watching my life backwards, she finally started getting closer. 

The memories started to get foggier, and I could hear all the sound from the memory that I hadn’t been able to hear before, from the buzzing of electricity to the running water in the pipes. Honestly, the quiet of past memories was welcome, but I was still anxious to get out of my trance. 

The memories got foggier and foggier, and the sound was louder than I ever remembered it being. I closed my eyes and threw my hands over my ears, trying to escape, but it was all in my head anyway. I could hear my breath over the breath of my past self. A strange buzz was coming from the girl’s red energy and her shadow was so bright it burned my eyes through they were closed. 

The memories leading up to the Memory seemed to last for hours, and they did. I was being forced to watch in real time as the girl examined every stray thought and event. Tears streamed down my face as my head pounded with all of the sound and light. My ears bled and started to buzz on their own accord as I sank to my knees, still desperately grasping them as if that would help at all. 

Then, all of a sudden, all of the noise ceased. It was peaceful. My head stopped aching and I rose from my knees. I wiped under my eyes, still too scared to open them, but they came back dry. I removed my hands from my ears, opening my eyes to find no blood.

This was all in my head. It wasn’t real.

We were in my room. The one from Hydra. M was standing in the middle, wearing a frown. I was pacing beside him in my own body, troubled, apparently.

“ _Tina, what’s wrong? You are not making any sense,”_ M said in our own language. This must not have been long ago, a year at most. I looked the same as I did now when I glanced in the mirror as I passed it, except in this memory I was thinner with longer hair and large bags under my eyes.

“ _I feel like I am missing something!”_ I said, yelling. I must have looked insane as I threw my hands in the air, “ _Something is wrong and missing, and I don’t know what it is. But it’s gone and I don’t know what to think,”_

“ _What are you suggesting?”_ M said. His tone was dangerously quiet, but curious all the same.

I paused for a minute, considering what I was going to say next. 

“ _We both have powers, yes?”_ I said, my eyes narrowed. This would not end well. M nodded, his expression questioning and curious in the same moment. “ _We are more powerful than anyone here. We could overpower them all. Why don’t we,_ ”

“ _You are going to get yourself killed,_ ” M said in a volume just below a yell. He stepped to me and grabbed my wrist, but my past self quickly twisted it away. 

“ _No, I will not,”_ I growled. I knew what came next, “ _I could bring down all of Hydra easily. I need to know why I am missing something.”_

Suddenly, but not unexpectedly, the door to the room swung open with a bang. Agent Durus walked into the room, and both M and I gave an involuntary flinch. 

Suddenly, the emotions I associated with the event felt all wrong. There was nothing there to feel. 

The next thing I knew, I was awake in a room. I was laying in a warm bed, and IV stuck up my arm. I stared up at the ceiling for a few minutes, trying to make sense of what had just happened. It was like something was missing from my head, but unlike the event I had just seen, I was glad. 

I looked over as the bed shifted. Mr. Stark was sitting at the far end of the bed. His presence was comforting, but strange nonetheless. Why would he care after all he had seen me do? Why would he be here?

Almost as if he felt my stare, he looked up and met my eye, smiling. 

“Nice to see you awake,” 

“Where did she go?” I said, my voice raspy. I started to cough, each lurch hurting my throat. Mr. Stark handed me a glass of water with a straw in it and I greedily grabbed it and tried to drink it all. 

“You are going to make yourself sick. Slow down,” Mr. Stark urged. In order to appease him, I sipped my drink slower, but probably not as slow as he would have liked, because he sighed. 

“Wanda will be staying here for a little. I assume that’s who you were asking about,” I nodded, still sipping. Each sip felt amazing on my throat. 

Eventually, I stopped to take a breath and ask another question. 

“How long was I out? What did she even do?” Mr. Stark sighed again, running his fingers through his hair. He seemed stress, though I couldn’t really fathom why.

“You were out for about two days, and she wiped a certain memory from your memory. Apparently you won’t react to a certain word anymore. You did take almost half a day to wake up though, so they must have worn off most of the way,”

There was a minute of silence before I asked another question.

“Where did He go?” I asked, my voice quiet. 

“He got away.” Mr. Stark said quickly. I fell back onto my pillows. The Man was still out there. This was not good, not at all. This was the exact opposite of good. 

“How?” I asked, accusingly. If this was on Mr. Stark, I don’t even know what I would do.

“I don’t know,” Mr. Stark sounded tired, “I have people all over it. He was in our most secure holding cell, and yet again the camera went out and he disappeared. He left this note,” Mr. Stark handed me his phone with a picture pulled up. The note was on a small piece of paper and I was in a script I always had trouble reading, but I could make out the words nonetheless. 

“I will be in touch,”

Those five words turned my stomach, twisting it into a shape I didn’t think it was capable of becoming. He was coming for me. He would kill me next time. I forced myself to breathe slowly, but I only succeeded in bringing more tears to my eyes. No tears, not in front of people. I would be seen as weak, and I couldn’t be weak. 

Mr. Stark apparently saw my anguish and tears, though I tried to hide them. He reached out to touch my arm or leg or something, but backed away at the last minute. Honestly I could use some sort of comfort; I hadn’t touched anyone in weeks. 

“I know you’re scared,” Mr. Stark said. No: admitting that was defeat, “I won’t let him get to you. He won’t be able to touch you here,” Mr. Stark said, trying to be reassuring, but his words were anything but. 

“He got in the first time,” my voice shaking. A tear streamed down my face, but I quickly wiped it away. 

Mr. Stark tilted his head back and forth, considering.

“I’ll upgrade some security on different things. It will take some time, but you will be safe. I promise,” 

I had heard enough empty promises before, but I had an underlying feeling that this one was not empty. But I couldn't be sure, so I just nodded. 

Mr. Stark smiled sadly. 

“We’ll get there,” 

I didn’t ask what he meant. 

At the end of the week, Peter came back again. It was nice. He was a little more tentative than he had been at the end of his last visit, but then again, I did get shot the day after and had a whole ordeal with my words, so I guess he had a reason. Nevertheless, by the end of the visit he was rambling. 

True to his word, he brought a lego set for the Star Wars movies, and it was pretty fun. We finished the set pretty quickly, considering there were hundreds of steps with hundreds more pieces. 

By the end however, we had built a ship that Peter called the Millenium Falcon. It shot small, harmless, red darts out of a little thing. It was… nice. Relaxing to say the least.

We didn’t talk much while we completed it, but after we sat back to admire our creation (and after Peter had shot me with one of the darts) Peter started to talk.

“You see, I really hope I get a set of legos for Christmas. A ton of new sets came out for Rogue One. It comes out next week and Ned and I are going to see it on the Monday after it comes out. It looks really good,” 

Christmas, what a strange word.

“What’s Christmas?” I asked. Peter turned to look at me, stopping in the middle of his rant about Rogue One.

“You don’t know what Christmas is?” Peter whispered, eyes wide. 

I shook my head.

“My gosh, you don’t know what Christmas is,” Peter said, throwing his hands in the air. He looked panicked, like he had never been asked that question before. 

I shrugged, hoping he would explain. When he didn’t I asked again.

“So what is Christmas?” 

I took a minute for Peter to answer. 

“I mean, technically the day the Christians believe Jesus was born, but I don’t even know. May and I go to church that day, but that’s about it. But it’s, um. I have never been asked this question before,” I could tell, “Well, you get presents and give gifts to other people. It’s pretty cool to pick out gifts and stuff. You usually spend it with your family and have a nice dinner. It’s a day.” Peter explained, flustered. “You would really have to experience it yourself to know what it is. I’m really bad at explaining it,” 

“I’m still confused,” 

“It’s also a feeling. Like the Christmas spirit or whatever,” Peter sighed. “It’s in two weeks. The day is on the calendar. It’s a holiday,”

I didn’t think now was a good time to tell Peter I had no idea what a holiday was. We were both already so confused. 

“Please, ask me any other question,” Peter said, laying back on the floor. 

“What is a holiday?” 

Peter groaned. I laughed. 

A couple days after Peter came over, Mr. Stark let me out of the room, which was rather ambitious of him. I wonder if he was worried if I would attack him or something. I mean, I could. But I didn’t really want to. 

When I asked him why he was letting me out, he gave a short answer that definitely didn’t contain all of the details for my liberation. 

“I figured I would give you a tour,” I raised my brow at that. 

“Why?” 

Mr. Stark turned to look at me, shrugging. 

“Figured if you need to come find me you should know the way,” 

“So, what makes you think that I wouldn’t use this information to get out of here?” Mr. Stark pointed down to the cuffs still fastened to my wrists. 

“You can’t get out of here or into certain rooms without explicit permission. And besides, would you even want to go back after the stunt they pulled?” My answer was no, and that scared me. But, I still shrugged, not letting Mr. Stark know my true feelings. I felt like he still knew what I really thought about it, though. 

We walked into the elevator in silence. 

“Is there anywhere you would want to go first?” I thought back to the woman who broke into my mind to help me. Mr. Stark said her name was Wanda and that she would be staying here. 

“Can I go see Ms. Wanda?” I asked. Mr. Stark seemed surprised, but he still answered quickly. 

“Sure,” the elevator started moving down, and almost immediately stopped. Mr. Stark typed a message on his phone. I tapped my foot, trying not to be impatient. 

After about a minute, the elevator doors opened, revealing a floor that looked a lot like mine in the brief time I had to examine it. It looked like people lived there however, which was a lot different from my floor. There were shoes by the elevator and coats thrown over chairs. Food was in the kitchen and the television was on. 

Another indicator that people lived there was the fact that Wanda and a strange red man greeted us as we got out of the elevator. 

Wanda had a bit of a sour expression on her face that she quickly covered with a smile. She was younger than I expected her to be.

“Hello,” she said, albeit quietly. I was too busy looking at the strange man to really hear what she said. His skin almost looked metal. 

“I’m Wanda, this is Vision,” Wanda said. I snapped back to her. She was standing awkwardly, a foot crossed behind her and her arms crossed in front. I don’t think she agreed to this meeting, but I was happy nonetheless. 

“Hello,” I said. I didn’t think that it would be appropriate to just stand here while everyone else was expecting me to say something. I was the only reason we were all here anyway. 

I cleared my throat quietly before speaking again.

“I just wanted to say thank you. For getting that stuff out of my head,” wow, Peter really was wearing off on me. That was the most awkward thing I had ever said.

“You’re welcome,”Wanda said softly. There was more. I had to say something. 

“Sorry. You had to, you know,” I trailed off, hoping she would catch what I was trying to say. 

Wanda smiled sadly. 

“I am sorry too,” About my life? That was different. My face must have shown my confusion, because Ms. Wanda laughed slightly. 

After a few moments of awkward silence, I spoke again. 

“Why are you red?” I asked Vision. I didn’t mean for the question to be condescending, but it might have come out that way. Wanda made a bit of a face, almost like she was offended for him, but Vision didn’t seem to mind. 

“I am an android,” he answered. 

“So you are a robot connected to the internet. Basically. With a conscience?” the android nodded. 

“That is so cool!” I exclaimed, catching everyone by surprise. “The amount of science and innovation in your brain alone is astounding, one of the most high tech things in the world probably. But the fact that you can move and speak is even better! Do you have any other capabilities?” A headache was forming at the back of my head, but I hadn’t had any water this morning, so I disregarded it. 

“I can fly,” he supplied. “And shoot laser beams,” My jaw dropped. 

“How?” If he was anything like me, that would be great. 

“This,” he pointed to a yellow dot in the middle of his forehead. It almost looked like a crystal. “It’s called the Mind Stone,” 

“You are really cool,” I sighed. Vision laughed. 

“Thank you,” he replied. After several seconds of silence, Mr. Stark spoke.

“Well, we should get going. I’m giving her the grand tour,” Wanda nodded and smiled. I smiled back. 

“Goodbye. Thank you!” I said again, before turning to Vision, “You are cool. Bye,” I could see Wanda stifling a laugh as I walked back into the elevator with Mr. Stark.

As soon as the elevator door closed, Mr. Stark burst out laughing. 

“What?” I asked.

“You told Vision he was cool,” Mr. Stark said, getting his laugh under control, instead putting on a wide smile. 

“He is!” I exclaimed. 

“I built him, I’m cooler,” I raised my brow. 

“You are not cooler,” 

“We need to redefine your definition of cool. I’m taking you to the Lab,” My eyes widened. 

“You have a lab?” 

“Yep,” Mr. Stark said casually, like it was the most normal thing in the world, “But you can’t go inside right now. I don’t trust you that much,”

I was a bit disappointed at that, but I could see where he was coming from. Part of me still yearned to get back to Hydra, to order and structure and a clear cut hierarchy. It was strange that a man like Tony Stark who seemed to have all the power in the world would even think of me. The man was larger than life, and he still made sure I was comfortable. It felt like a luxury, but if my hunch was correct, this wouldn’t last forever. He would forget about me quickly. 

It made me sad, but the disinterest was inevitable. This would be over soon.

But when I watched Mr. Stark point out his bots and all of the projects he had finished or was working on with a child-like wonder in his eyes, and thought of Peter with his never-ending rambles and lego sets, I couldn’t help but hope this would last forever. 


	24. Chapter Twenty-One

As the next week passed, Mr. Stark allowed me out of my room more and more, to the point where I was allowed to roam my floor and go up to the Lab or Penthouse, with permission for the last two of course. I may have abused this power, though it was small, asking everyday if I could go somewhere just because I could. I had never experienced this kind of freedom before and I fully intended to use it. 

Though as I went places, I found that there were certain changes happening. Little things, usually either in red, green, or gold, went up around the Penthouse. Some things that resembled giant socks went up on the mantle and an evergreen tree appeared in the sitting room. The tree had spheres hung all over it and a star on the top.

I was thinking about it as I sat at the small table in the kitchen of my floor, drawing. It was just a passing thought, but it still made me put down my pencil.

“Friday?” I asked. Mr. Stark had given Friday the permission to answer questions as long as they were harmless, which I was extremely thankful for. It would have been awful trying to find the lightswitch. 

“Yes Cori,” 

“Why did Mr. Stark put up those socks and a tree in his living room?”

“Those are Christmas decorations. Boss and Ms. Potts put them up to prepare for Christmas. The socks are called stockings, and they decorate the tree with ornaments,” Fridays answered, also anticipating my next question. 

I was quiet for a minute before I spoke again, trying to decide if I should even ask the question. 

“What’s Christmas,” Not that I had anything against Peter’s explanation, but I wanted a more comprehensive explanation. Because Peter’s explanation was honestly terrible. 

“ Christmas is an annual festival commemorating  the birth of Jesus Christ, observed primarily on December 25 as a religious and cultural celebration among billions of people  around the world . Popular modern customs of the holiday include gift giving, completing an Advent calendar or Advent wreath, Christmas music and caroling, viewing a Nativity play, an exchange of Christmas cards, church services, a special meal, and the display of various Christmas decorations, including Christmas trees, Christmas lights, nativity scenes, garlands, wreaths, mistletoe, and holly ,” Friday answered.

So apparently this Jesus guy was pretty important. He had a whole holiday to celebrate him. I guess that was pretty cool. The whole holiday seemed a little over the top, if anything.

We were both silent for a minute, before Friday spoke again. 

“Boss is requesting your presence outside the Lab,” she said as the elevator door opened. 

I nodded, getting up from the seat and walking into the elevator, whose doors were already open and waiting for me.

The Lab was a cool place, even if I was subjected to waiting outside it, watching as Mr. Stark worked on all sorts of interesting projects. I couldn’t complain. Watching him work on some cool projects was still really fun.

The elevator ride to the Lab was short, but it always seemed to take forever. The amount of things I could build with the materials in that lab always excited me, even though I could never touch them. When the doors opened, I rushed out and raced to the window, looking for Mr. Stark in the mess that was always somewhat organized. But I couldn’t see him. 

I searched for Mr. Stark inside the lab, but as soon as I reached out with my powers, I felt him standing next to me. I was getting too used to this. 

I turned to look at him. He chuckled.

“Looking for me?” 

“Yes,” I said, no emotion in my voice. This only caused him to smile further. 

“I heard from Friday that you asked what Christmas was,” he said, suddenly turning serious. I glanced up at the ceiling. Friday was, as Peter said, a snitch. 

When I didn’t answer right away, Mr. Stark continued. 

“Pep and I are hosting a small Christmas party on Saturday. You are welcome if you want to come,” Mr. Stark stuck his hands inside of the pockets of his jeans, awaiting an answer. 

Honestly, I was a bit taken aback. I was told I could come to something if I wanted to. I didn’t really know what a party was, but I counted the invitation as a really cool thing. 

“What’s a party?” I asked quietly. Tony opened his mouth to answer the question, but Friday beat him to it.

“A party is a social gathering of invited guests, typically involving eating, drinking, and entertainment,” I nodded. 

“We will only have a few people, so it won’t be overwhelming. Me, Pepper, Peter and his aunt, Rhodey, and Wanda and Vision if they choose to come. We’ll have dinner and watch a Christmas movie afterwards,”

I nodded along. It sounded pretty fun. 

“I’ll have Friday remind you on Saturday if you want to come,” Mr. Stark said with a smile. 

“Thanks,” I said, before beginning to walk back toward the elevator, but Mr. Stark stopped me. 

“You haven’t been as awful as I expected you to be,” He said. I turned around to answer him. 

“Manners are important Mr. Stark. First thing I learned,” his smile fell. Manners were important, but I think the way I learned that was more unnerving to the man. 

“People are more important. You don’t have to be constantly polite,” so when I killed people I was being polite? I raised my brow. Mr. Stark rolled his eyes. 

“What I’m trying to say is, you’re better than where you came from. And that’s admirable,” 

“I’m not a good person,” 

“And neither am I,” Mr. Stark shrugged, “But as long as we are better than we were, I’ll consider that improvement,” 

I nodded before walking back to the elevator. I turned to face Mr. Stark as the elevator doors closed, but he was already inside his lab, back turned to me. I sighed. That was interesting to say the least. I wasn’t a good person, I wasn’t better than where I came from. I was a killer. Killers could never be good, no matter how hard they tried. 

I guess I would just have to live with that. 

~~~

The day of the party was rapidly approaching. It was already Thursday and I had no clue what to expect. I had asked Friday so many questions that I was sure she was getting annoyed, though she was an AI and technically didn’t have feelings unless Mr. Stark had done some amazing programming that enabled her to have almost human-like processing, which would be pretty amazing. Nevertheless, I still had no idea what to expect. 

I had asked Friday what to wear (jeans with a nice shirt or sweater, or a dress if I felt like it), what food would be there (apparently very nice food that I probably wouldn’t be able to eat much of), and what activities would happen (movies, eating, talking, maybe a board game). I was still a little confused, but had the basics down. I was guessing it was like how Peter said: I have to experience it to understand. 

There was one thing I was unsure about however. Both Friday and Peter had said something about gifts. I doubt gifts by their standard were the same as gifts by Hydra’s standard, and I didn’t have much to make gifts with anyway. 

“Friday, what is a popular Christmas food?” I asked the AI. If she had the ability, I was pretty sure she would have sighed.

“Popular Christmas foods include ham, turkey, mashed potatoes, salads, cakes, cookies,” she answered. Her cheery voice disguised her probable annoyance with my questions. 

“Can I make cookies?” I asked. Friday was silent for a minute before answering.

“Boss says you can and the ingredients will be down shortly. He does ask why,” 

“Tell him I got into the Christmas spirit,” I said with a smile. I really hoped that was how you used that phrase, otherwise this would get awkward. 

A few minutes later, Mr. Stark walked out of the elevator laden with bags of what I supposed were ingredients. He dropped them on the counter, before walking over to me and handing me a piece of paper. 

“Here’s a recipe. Now, are you going to tell me why you are really doing this?” he said, a light of humour in his eyes. 

“Nope,” I said before looking back down to the recipe. It said it would make snickerdoodles and would take an hour to make. 

“All the ingredients are here. If you have any questions, you can ask Friday. She is an everything extraordinaire, so you should be able to figure everything out with her help.” Mr. Stark started to walk out toward the elevator once more.

“Thank you Mr. Stark,” I called to his retreating back.

“Anytime,” He said, turning back as the elevator doors closed. 

After he left, I clapped my hands together and spoke.

“Time to make food,” 

“I believe the term is baking,” Friday said. I nodded toward the ceiling. 

“Time to get baking,” 

All in all, it took about seven batches to get the cookies right. 

Apparently I made the cookies too big for the first batch, so they ended up spreading into each other, creating a magnificent sheet that was full of cookies. It didn’t taste too bad, but I wanted to be able to hand out the cookies. I ate the rest of the dough that I had, because I didn’t have much left. 

The second batch I burnt to a crisp. I fell asleep and Friday couldn’t wake me. At this time, it was nearly eleven at night, so I had every right to fall asleep and stay asleep. Basically, I almost set the kitchen on fire and had to throw the whole cookie sheet away, nothing able to be salvaged. 

After that, I went to sleep and decided to try again the next day. 

The next time I tried to make the cookies, I almost cracked my tooth. They were hard as rock and I had to ask Friday what could have possibly gone wrong. Apparently, I probably overmixed my dough, which led to the solid cookies. I had to throw the whole batch away. 

At this point, I had to get more ingredients. I was completely out of butter, sugar, and flour. Mr. Stark appeared about an hour and a half later with a quizzical look on his face. 

“There aren’t that many ways to bake a cookie wrong,” he said, dropping the ingredients on the counter once again, “Even I can make a cookie,”

“I made the cookies too large, I burnt my cookies, and I have over mixed the dough. I have almost died and cracked my tooth,” I sighed, “There are apparently many ways to get a cookie wrong,” 

I looked up and Mr. Stark looked like he was fighting back a smile. 

“You’ll get it eventually,” he said, “But I like my Tower quite a bit. Don’t burn it down,” 

“No promises,” I said with a smile. There was a 50/50 chance that I wasn’t joking, but I didn’t tell Mr. Stark that.

“I would have liked promises, but I assume it’s only going to get worse. I’m leaving. Don’t kill yourself,” he said with a smile before walking back to the elevator. 

I took a deep breath and opened my flour. It was time to get baking. Again, but whatever. I would do it right this time.

I did _not_ do it right that time. 

Or the next time for that matter.

The fourth batch I apparently added too much flour. Apparently the all-seeing entity, also known as Friday, is apparently not all seeing. Otherwise, she watched me dump too much flour in the whole time. The batch was perfect otherwise, but the flour is what messed it up. 

The fifth time, I did everything right. It was perfect, amazing. The cookies came out masterpieces. Perfectly shaped and spaced and cooked. They were glowing and it was amazing. But then I tried to remove them off the cookie sheet right after they came out and they crumbled. Like, completely fell apart. I waited a couple more minutes for the cookies to cool a little and with a little help from Friday, I got them on a cooling rack. 

After a couple of minutes had passed, I tried my cookies. My masterpieces. They were amazing. At least to look at. I bit into them and immediately had to run to the trash can to spit it out. It was far too salty. 

“You put in a fourth tablespoon of salt, not a fourth teaspoon,” Friday said as soon as I had finished cleansing my mouth.

“And you didn’t tell me?” I said, taking a swig of water.

“You didn’t ask me to tell you if anything you had done was wrong,”

“You’re having fun aren’t you?” 

“Yes,” Friday answered shortly.

“Could you tell me if I’m doing anything wrong this time?” I said with a sigh.

“Of course,” 

And so I moved onto my sixth batch of cookies. At this point, I had completely memorized the recipe, but kept on glancing back at it, just to make sure I was doing it correctly. Ingredients were spilled all over it, but somehow I could still understand what was going on. Friday corrected me a few times before I happened to destroy anything. As soon as the cookies came out of the refrigerator, I put them in the oven. 

They came out beautifully. I took them off the cookie sheet at the right time and let them cool for a minute before I ate one of them. It was beautiful. It melted in my mouth and was so warm and lovely. I picked up another. And another. 

The next thing I knew, I had eaten the whole sheet of cookies. If anyone was watching me, they must have been laughing at how stupid and greedy I was. But the cookies made me happy for some unfathomable reason, so I ate them all. 

At this time, it was late again, so I went to bed and resolved to make the perfect batch of cookies in the morning. Tomorrow was the day of the party after all, so I had to make the cookies good. 

The next morning, at around eleven, it finally happened. I made the perfect cookies. I didn’t eat any of the dough (I felt a little sick after I ate all of the cookies yesterday, so I decided it would be best if I didn’t eat any of it, lest I actually get sick). I cooled them properly, then divided them among seven festive plastic bags, one for each person. I put the few remaining cookies on a plate and left them on the counter before stepping back to admire my work. 

The kitchen was a mess. A mess that I would have to clean up, but I didn’t mind. The cookies were perfect. According to Friday, it was Christmas Eve. All felt good. 

I didn’t even know what that night had in store, but I felt everything would be alright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should have cut most of this chapter, but Cori failing at making cookies makes me happy. Happy Late Thanksgiving to my fellow Americans!


	25. Chapter Twenty-Two

When Friday reminded me that the party was starting in an hour, I started to get ready. I cleaned up my area (space, room, floor?) and then got in the shower after deciding I would wear one of the dresses that had snuck its way into my closet for some reason. After I had gotten out, I brushed wisps of thick, curly hair that had started to grow into something more presentable. 

Then I slipped into the dress. It was red, long sleeved, and a little bit too big for me, but I thought I looked fine. If anything I could be given the benefit of the doubt. I have never been to a party before after all. 

“Friday, do I look okay?” The AI probably wouldn’t be able to give me any worthwhile advice, but it felt nice to ask.

“Yes,” she said, “The party starts in 15 minutes. If you would like to change you have time,”

“Are you trying to tell me I should change?” 

“It is my understanding that you would be the only person wearing a dress,” 

But surely it would be okay. It wasn’t like it was that much of a big deal. I would be fine.

“I’ll be okay Friday,” I said.

“I would suggest a pair of leggings,” I nodded, finding that it wasn’t that bad of an idea. I put on a pair and made my way to the living room and sat at the counter, reviewing all I knew about the people coming and what normal party etiquette was. Hydra knows I had asked Friday enough questions about that. 

As soon as 15 minutes had passed, I got up, grabbed my cookies, and got into the elevator. The cuffs on my hands were still on, but Mr. Stark had downsized them in the past two weeks. Now they were small metal bands, more like a stylish bracelet that clung to my wrist than a bulky cuff. 

The elevator started to move and in a few seconds I was at the Penthouse. I took a deep breath before stepping out of the elevator. 

The Penthouse had completely changed since I had last seen it a couple days ago. Small golden lights hung from almost every surface that wasn’t covered in tinsel or topped with a wreath. Elaborate food trays sat on the counter and the long table, laden with cheeses, meats, fruits, and vegetables.

Even though I had arrived right on time, there were already several people there. There was a dark skinned man with metal around his legs (?) talking to Mr. Stark, Peter was talking to Vision and apparently freaking out over him while Wanda looked on with amusement, and two women who were apparently Pepper and Peter’s aunt, I just didn’t know which was which. 

Peter looked over and waved me over to Wanda and Vision, a look of excitement in his eye. I walked over with a small smile; no doubt Peter was going to re-introduce me to Wanda and Vision. 

“Hi Cori! Have you met Ms. Wanda and Mr. Vision,” I nodded before handing each of them a bag of cookies. Peter looked down at the bag of cookies in his hands. 

“Did you make these?” he said, wide-eyed. 

“Yes. It took a little while though,” Peter smiled. 

“I bet they can’t be any worse than what Aunt May makes,” he lowered his voice to a whisper, “Her cooking is not the best. She brought a nut cake as a joke. It might be best if you didn’t try it,” I nodded. 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I said, whispering as well, “Which one is your Aunt May anyway,” 

Peter nodded to Pepper and Aunt May. 

“The one with the brown hair and the glasses. She’s great,” I nodded. The woman he was mentioning was very pretty, with long dark brown hair and a bit of a loud fashion sense that still seemed to suit her. 

“She seems great,” I said, watching as she chatted animatedly with Pepper, who was apparently the taller one with long strawberry blonde hair. 

“But it’s still really cool that you have met Wanda and Vision,” the people in question had long since walked off after giving their thanks for the cookies, preferring to sample some food rather than listen to our conversation. 

“Wanda helped me out, so I had to go say thank you. I just met Vision along the way,” 

“Oh yeah,” Peter said. He glanced down the still sizely stack of cookies in my arms. “Did you make enough for everyone?” 

“Yes. Both you and Friday said that people give gifts for Christmas and I wanted to give everyone a gift. It isn’t much, but it was fun to make,” I said sheepishly. 

Peter began to open the bag of cookies.

“I didn’t really know what they tasted like, so I tried my best,” Peter glared playfully at me.

“You didn’t have to tell me that. I wasn’t worried before,” he said, before pulling out a cookie and taking a bite. I held my breath while he did, hoping he would like it. 

Peter’s eyes immediately lit up, and I sincerely hoped that was a good thing. If not, I would have to take back all the cookies. I thought they were pretty okay, but I don’t even know what they were supposed to taste like anyway.

“How many times did you make this cookie? It’s really good!” Peter said after he finished a bite of the cookie.

“You are eating the seventh batch,” I said quietly. 

“Practice makes perfect,” he said, with a smile, “But what happened to the other six batches?”

“I ruined them,”

“How many times can you mess up a cookie recipe?”

“Five times, at least apparently,” Peter looked confused. 

“But this is the seventh batch? You didn’t-?” 

“I ate the sixth batch,” Peter laughed. 

“I don’t blame you. These are really good!” 

“Was it a good Christmas gift?” I asked. I was curious. I didn’t really know how all of this worked yet, so I wanted to know if I ever did this in the future. I hoped I did. So far, this was pretty fun.

“Um, yeah. It was really good,” Peter said, “Now all you have to do is hand the rest of them out,” I glanced over the room. I knew about half of the people in here, and I already gave my cookies to three of them. The hard part was knowing which to give next. 

Luckily, Peter made the decision for me.

“Can I go introduce you to Aunt May,” I nodded. Peter and I started walking over to where his aunt and Pepper were still talking. 

We had to stand there for a second while they finished their conversation, but soon Peter was talking. 

“Aunt May, this is Cori,” Peter said. This was awkward. 

“Hi,” I said. This was awful. 

“Hi Cori,” May said with a small smile, “Peter has told me all about you,” That was a vaguely creepy thing to say in my opinion, but since when did anyone ever ask my opinion. 

“Hello,” Pepper said, smiling as well. “I’m Pepper,” 

“Hi,” I said again before handing both of them a bag of cookies. “Merry Christmas,” I said as quietly as I possibly could. I may be a trained assassin, but I was not trained in social skills. 

Thankfully, Pepper started a conversation that was a little more than introductions. 

“Did you make these by yourself,” She said, looking down at the snickerdoodle cookies in her hand, “They look good,” 

I nodded, before saying. 

“With Friday’s help,” 

Peter laughed a little before saying. 

“You should tell them how many times you had to make them.” Peter said. 

“Seven,” I said, hanging my head. Both May and Pepper started to laugh. 

“Should I be worried?” Pepper said after a minute, still laughing slightly. 

“No!” Peter said, “They are some of the best cookies I have ever had. Honestly, they are really good. No need to be worried,” 

“If you say so Peter,” May said, before opening the bag and taking a cookie out. She bit into it and started nodding, hopefully in satisfaction. 

“Peter is right,” she said, after she had swallowed, “It’s far better than anything I could ever make,” she said with a laugh. 

“I’ll eat mine at desert,” Pepper said politely, walking over to her place at the table, notified by a small slip of paper folded to stand up and placed the cookies by the plate . I wondered where my place was. 

Peter answered my question.   
“You’re sitting by me,” he said. I nodded, before beginning to walk over to Mr. Stark and who I assumed was Mr. Rhodey. 

Mr. Stark immediately stopped his conversation to introduce me and Peter rather than let us introduce ourselves. 

“And these two youths, Honey Bear, are Cori and Peter,” He said with a smile. “Peter is my intern, Cori is a scary assassin,” 

“Cori the ‘scary assassin’ made cookies,” Rhodey said. I nodded and gave each man a plastic bag of cookies. 

“So, how many times did you need to remake the batch?” Mr. Stark said, taking a bite of the cookie. 

“Seven. I ate the sixth batch,” I said with a small smile. Mr. Stark barked a laugh. 

“I wouldn’t have expected anything less. They’re good,” He said. Mr. Rhodey had also gotten into his cookies and eaten a whole cookie. 

“I second that,” he said, closing his bag. “If you have any extra, I’ll take them,” I shook my head. 

“Those are for me,” I said. 

“I thought you ate the entire sixth batch?” Mr. Stark said, munching into another cookie. 

“And they were really good,” I said, chin up with a smile, “I’ll continue to eat them,” 

“Good Christmas present,” Mr. Stark said, before finishing off the last cookie in his bag, “Speaking of which, I have something for you. Let me go get it,” 

With that, Mr. Stark dismissed himself from the conversation and walked off to another part of the Penthouse. I was left to stand there awkwardly with Mr. Rhodey and Peter. That is, before Peter dragged me off to get some food on the trays laid out. 

“This,” Peter said, pointing to a bowl with pink almost-rings surrounding a red sauce, “Is cocktail shrimp. You dip the shrimp into the sauce and it tastes really good,” 

I took one of the shrimp and dunked it into the sauce before tentatively putting it in my mouth. Peter did the same, but he popped the whole thing in his mouth. The shrimp was okay, but the sauce had a whole different flavor that was almost too much for me. I only just managed to swallow the shrimp. Not spitting it out took great effort. The unpleasant taste lingered in my mouth. 

“What kind of taste was that,” trying to be casual with my question. 

“Spicy, kind of,” he must have seen my face at the taste, “I’m guessing you didn’t like it,” I nodded. 

“It was too much,” I said, trying to justify my behaviour. Peter only shrugged. He must not have minded that much, which was a bit of a surprise. 

“Spicy food isn’t for everyone. The cheese is really good though,” he said, pulling me over to the cheese plate. There were different types of cheeses or all different colors and sizes.

“This is cheddar,” Peter said, pointing to an orange cheese, “That’s pepper jack. It’s spicy, so stay away from it,” he said, pointing to a white cheese with green and red bits, “That’s colby jack,” he pointed to a white and orange cheese, “And this is my personal favourite, gouda,” he said, pointing to a white cheese in a large block unlike the others. He looked up at me, saying, “The gouda is very gouda,” his face was completely straight. The joke was bad but it still made me laugh. 

He pointed to another cheese, which like the gouda, was in a big block. 

“Apparently,” he said, looking over to the plastic label on the cheese, “this is aged english cheddar,” He popped a piece that was frayed off the cheese block into his mouth, before giving a thumbs up, “That might be my new favorite,” 

I tried each of the cheeses, except for the pepper jack. I agreed with Peter. The aged english cheddar was the best cheese on that plate. 

I was going around again with the cheeses, this time eating them on the small crackers provided when Mr. Stark appeared once again. I turned, stuffing one last cracker in my mouth 

Mr. Stark was holding a file folder. I reached my hand to take it, before stopping. Was I even supposed to take the folder? 

“It’s for you,” Mr. Stark said, putting the folder in my hand. 

I turned it over. The label on the folder said “For Cori’s Eyes Only”. I looked up at Mr. Stark, hoping that the need for an explanation was written over my face. Thankfully, he seemed to catch the message. 

“Open it,” He urged. I looked over my shoulder. Peter was over talking to Rhodey and no one else was near. I opened the folder. 

I saw my face. This was my file. It was only a few pages long. The first page read this.

“ _Name: Corentine Lyndon Stewart_

_Date of Birth: May 7, 2004_

_Parents:_ _Damon Stewart_ _(Deceased 2004),_ _Isabeau Stewart_ _née Beaumont _ _(Deceased 2004)_

 _Siblings:_ _Kendra Ara Stewart_ _(Deceased 2013),_ _Tarin Piera Stewart _ _(Deceased 2007),_ _Adara Cadance Stewart _ _(Deceased 2011),_ _Maxim Peter Stewart_ _(Deceased 2016)_

_Mission Report_

_Experimentation_

_Abilities: Air control, enhanced metabolism, enhanced hearing, enhanced strength_

_Applications:_ _Inhibitor_ _located on nape of neck_

 _Distinguishing features_ _”_

It was short, and I was assuming that the underlined names and items were on the pages behind this one. It was strange to see yourself staring back at you from a picture, emotionless, so I turned the page, that was littered with small print. 

The top of the page bore the name of my father. I didn’t bother reading the rest. I could look at that later. 

I looked back at Mr. Stark, who was still standing there. 

“Thank you,” I whispered. 

“You’re welcome. I have more if you want them,” He said. I nodded. 

“But later,” I said, glancing at the clock on the oven. It only had a few minutes left for whatever was inside. Mr. Stark followed my gaze, nodding. 

“Yeah, dinner is almost ready,” he was silent for a second, “Tell me, what would you really want for Christmas?” 

I thought for a moment. What did I really want for Christmas? I wanted materials to build things again. I wanted more ingredients to bake some more, and hopefully more successfully. I wanted to go free and not have to worry about glancing over my back. Part of me wanted to forget again. But what I wanted most?

“I want to go outside. Not for long,” I amended, “Just for a few minutes,”

Mr. Stark considered it for a moment, before nodding. 

“I can arrange that,”

“Really?” I was a bit surprised. I assumed since I was technically a criminal, and an awful one at that I wouldn’t be able to. 

“Well, I have heard that going outside is good for you. And you are a kid,” I must have seemed worried, but he reassured me, “Those cuffs will keep you in certain parameters, so I don’t need to worry about you flying away or anything,”

I nodded. 

“Thank you,” 

“Can’t believe I’m getting two thank you’s in one night. What happened to the scary assassin?” Mr. Stark said with a laugh. 

“You and Peter Parker,” I said. 

“Peter does have that effect,” Mr. Stark agreed just as the timer on the oven started to scream. Mr. Stark walked over and slid on oven mitts, pulling a… something out of the oven. 

“Turkey’s ready!” He announced. People started to swarm into the kitchen, pulling out dishes from the fridge or other oven set to a lower heat. A feast was laid out on the kitchen counter in under five minutes as Mr. Stark cut up what apparently was the turkey. 

Thankfully, they also began to lay out labels for the food. By the time everything was finished being laid out, I doubted that any amount of people could eat this much. There were at least a dozen dishes, if not more. 

I was last in line, wanting to read all of the labels on the food before eating. The first dish was sweet bread. I got a slice. I got a bit of everything. Turkey, mashed potatoes with gravy, cornbread (I got a lot of that), salad, yeast rolls, broccoli casserole, green bean casserole, carrots, green beans by themselves, corn by itself, and the two types of stuffing. 

Still, my plate didn’t look half as impressive as anyone else’s. Everyone obviously had their favorite food items. For Peter it was the turkey and yeast rolls. For Wanda (who was on my left), it was the sweet bread and mashed potatoes. 

I tried the corn first, one of the safe foods that I could not get out of my head. And then the corn bread. Both were very tasty. I slowly moved onto the other foods, eating until my whole plate was empty. I felt like my stomach had inflated to outrageous amounts to eat all of the food.

I had one of the smallest plates and was full, but others still went back to get more. Peter got at least three plates, I think. After the third plate I stopped counting. Watching the amount of food he ate made me sick. 

However, everyone finished relatively quickly, putting their dishes away as they talked cheerfully. People packed up the dishes they brought and put them either in the fridge or on the counter. 

Then they brought out more things! I watched in awe and horror as they brought out at least five more dishes and set out more labels for them. They even got smaller plates for them. I noticed that Pepper started to eat the cookies I gave her, and remembered what she had said earlier. This must be dessert. 

I only grabbed a small amount of each dish; there were two pies, a plate of cookies, a cake, and some ice cream.. I grabbed a sliver of each pie or cake, a half scoop of ice cream, and then a cookie. The total amounted to at least half of what was on almost everyone else’s plates. Pepper didn’t get much, and neither did Vision and May. 

But the dessert was good. All of it was very sweet, but no sweeter than the cookies I made. I finished in record time, not having much on my plate in the first place. 

I was starting to get tired, but Peter dragged me over to the couch for a movie. Everyone piled on, blankets and pillows scattered on top of the various people and chairs. A movie was turned on, called Home Alone I think, but I didn’t really pay attention to it. It was safe and warm here and I felt overstuffed from food. Not minutes into the movie, defying years upon years of training, I ended up falling asleep. 

I woke up to someone shaking me awake. My hands instinctively grabbed the hand shaking me and twisted. The yelp made me open my eyes.

Mr. Stark was standing over me, cradling his hand.   
“Kid, you’ve got quite a grip,” he said, shaking his hand out once more. I was thankful I hadn’t broken his hand; that would have left a bad impression. 

“Why did you wake me up?” I said, yawning. 

“It’s officially Christmas,” Mr. Stark’s eyes had a trace of sadness in them, “I thought it was a good time for your present,” 

I nodded and got off the couch, stretching and smoothing out my dress, before following Mr. Stark to the elevator. 

“Friday?” Mr. Stark said. The elevator started going up. I had never been up this high before, at least not in the Tower. The elevator kept on going up until I thought it was going to start to fly. But soon the elevator doors opened and we were on the roof. 

I looked up at the sky. Cool white flakes fell onto my face and clung to my eyelashes. My breath hung in the air; I could see the vapor particles freeze and dissipate with my every breath. The scene was almost dreamy. 

“What’s it called?” I asked, breaking the silence. I walked toward the edge of the roof, closer to the skyline of New York. The air was clear, clearer than I ever remembered it being. 

“What’s what called?” Mr. Stark said slowly, “Have you never seen snow before?”

I ignored both of his questions.

“Snow,” I whispered, only to myself. This was called snow. I reached out and let a few flakes fall into my palm, melting as soon as they made contact.

The silence carried on. If I listened close enough, I could hear the snow falling through the air.

“I’ve seen snow before. I just never knew what it was called,” I said. I stepped onto the roof wall, looking over New York city in it’s loud, neon glory, lit bright with the joy of Christmas even at night. I breathed in the night air, let it sting my lungs. 

“I always thought it was ash falling from the sky. I used to imagine the glory of the sky being on fire, just to rationalize why snow was falling. I always thought that it was odd that the landscape and snow were so cold. Maybe I could have seen that it was water, but I wanted to keep up the charade. The one innocent thing in my life. I wanted to be ignorant,” 

I turned back to Mr. Stark. He was staring at me, his face pale. Maybe it was just the light, or the fact that I was on the edge of the roof. I just wanted to be closer to the sky, he had no reason to worry. 

“Was I so wrong to want that?” I asked, willing my voice not to tremble.

“Of course not,” Mr. Stark said, shaking his head. I nodded and looked out over the city. I hadn’t felt so free in months. The only thing missing was a step off the roof, just to feel the wind rush past my face and the glorious feeling of complete free fall, only to catch myself at the last second. If I imagined hard enough, I could almost feel the swooping of my stomach as I willed the air to catch my fall instead of the pavement far below. 

I was too content to feel like that now anyway. 

“Thank you,” I whispered, but Mr. Stark heard me.

“Anytime,”

We were there for a while, caught in the silence of the falling snowflakes. For the first time in my life, I wasn’t worried or scared. 

I was just there, being. And, for now, that was enough. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was supposed to get published somewhere near Christmas, but I started posting two weeks too early. Oops. Merry early Christmas! 
> 
> Only one more chapter to go!
> 
> I don't really like this chapter. It feels really awkward and clunky to me, but I have no energy or desire to rewrite it. 
> 
> Fun fact: I wrote the end scene on the roof at least six months before I wrote the rest.


	26. Chapter Twenty-Three

Somewhere in the World, December 4, 23:03

The Man hissed as a pretty nurse tended to his shoulder wound. That stupid brat had shot him. He hoped she had died, but those stupid, dead agents and doctors were far more brilliant than he gave them credit for. They had created something genius and resilient and he might have endorsed it if he wasn’t so against her kind. 

The woman’s messy cleaning stung his wound once again, interrupting his thoughts. She would not do when he was thinking about such serious things. He raised a gun to her head with his good arm. Still, it took her a moment to notice. When she did, her eyes went wide and she scurried to her feet. 

“ _ Get out of my sight _ ,” The Man hissed, waving his loaded gun toward the door. The woman ran out of the door. As she went, he thought he could see tears streaming down her face. Good. He didn’t blame her. 

It was not everyday you were waved out of the room by the head of Hydra himself. If anything, she should be proud she was even deemed fit to be in his presence. 

The Man growled to himself as he bandaged the wound one handedly. The nurses in this organization were terrible. When this was a grand place, a temple that was not running on low funds and fumes, he could have gotten exceptional care in a split second. But now it was hard to find someone even passable. 

When he took over this organization from his father, who took it over from his father, who took it over from the legendary Red Skull himself, this place was smooth running with plenty of followers. Now, it was hard to find someone for their great work unless they kidnapped them off the street and wiped their memories. 

The Man got up and paced the room, ignoring the tinge of pain in his shoulder. He had to find a way to get rid of that girl, that sickening mutant. She had powers, and not normal ones at that. The Winter Soldier was noble, doing Hydra’s work for as long as The Man’s grandfather had been the Head of Hydra. The Soldier had failed no missions in his long line of work. However, as he read over this “Storm”’s files, he read of many botched missions that resulted in the deaths of Hydra’s agents and her siblings.

The fact that this insignificant little girl had been the only survivor of her siblings for months displayed the amount of attachment her superiors had over her. She must have been spoiled senseless for that to happen. 

In fact, that deserved punishment in itself. Though he had already killed many people over the course of the past ten years about these children, he supposed a few more couldn’t hurt. It wasn’t like they were important anyway. 

So he slid behind his ancient desk (which had belonged to his father, and his father, and the Red Skull) and typed on his computer, finding all the data on those who had been associated with these children. He pulled up the file on the Doctor that had been appointed over the children. 

Doctor Julia Galley. A good doctor. Had advised many invasive surgeries that had improved the performances of certain assets. 

What a shame that none of it could save her. 

He continued to find all the people that had ever been associated with this child and sentenced them to death, one by one, just for the satisfaction. When he was finished with his ritual, he called his secretary into the room. She was a pretty woman, but not quite pretty enough. He would have to get a new one as soon as this was over. 

“ _ Yes sir? _ ” she said, her voice even and low. He liked it better when it trembled.

“ _ Deliver this note to the head of security _ ,” The Man said, waving a note announcing the deaths of over fifty people in the air casually. 

“ _ Yes sir, _ ” she said, gently taking the note from his hand without touching him and walking out of the room. Maybe she wasn’t that bad. She had lasted longer than a month, which was a victory for her at least. 

The Man got up and paced again, still trying to ignore the pain in his shoulder, but a sudden spike almost brought him to his knees. Though he hated to admit it, he was still human, not immortal. If he didn’t act soon, infection might set in. 

He walked over to the desk phone and called the number for medical. They picked up on the first ring, but The Man didn’t let whoever was behind the phone speak before he did. 

“ _ I was shot in the shoulder. Give me a competent nurse this time, _ ” He growled into the receiver before hanging up.

While he waited, he took the time to review several of the files that he had on her. It was common knowledge that Tony Stark had managed to hack into the dropped server, but thankfully he couldn’t get the mission reports on there, no matter what any file said. The only way anyone could get those files was through The Man himself. The one and only mission report now resided with him, now that Doctor Galley was to be disposed of. 

The nurse arrived quickly, but that was about all she did quickly. Her capabilities, though better than the previous nurse, took far too long. When she made the pain worse once again, he ordered her out of the room.

He glanced down at the messy plans laying on his desk, written by the girl and stolen from her room while she slept. They were almost unreadable, written in chicken scratch cursive, but she got the point across well. Nanotech particles, used as a weapon. He nodded to himself. For all of her faults, Corentine Stewart was a genius.

She would die for the trouble she had caused him, he was sure of it. Over his dying breath, she would be disposed of. 

The Man smiled darkly. All he had to do was order it to be done. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I Am The Storm - Complete December 12nd, 2020
> 
> Special Chapter coming January 2nd, 2021 - Family Attachments
> 
> Book Two - I Am [REDACTED] coming February 6th, 2021


End file.
